


Heartless

by allu-ria (waffelingaround)



Series: Lacking [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Angst, Contracts, Emotions, Falling In Love, Hearts, Injuries in general, Kinda, M/M, Magic-Users, Magical Academy, Minor Injuries, Self-Sacrifice, Serious Injuries, Slow Burn, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-10-23 16:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10723062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waffelingaround/pseuds/allu-ria
Summary: “Oh,” he manages to say. It’s a while until he speaks up again. “Why do you need my heart?”“For the same reason you are willing to give it up.”“What’s that supposed to mean?” A sickening feeling tells Tooru knows exactly what he means, but the questioncomes out anyways.“It means you care for your friend too much. You’ve already made a decision, haven’t you?”----Tooru, born without magic, dreams to be a witch. But when his dream comes true for the cost of his heart, things quickly go downhill.





	1. Apathy

 

_When all your wishes are granted, many of your dreams will be destroyed_

_-_ Marilyn Manson

 

 

From where Oikawa Tooru sat, he could see the entire city underneath him.

The night sky was completely void except for the moon, barely shining with only a sliver of white showing. Building lights flickered like stars embedded to the ground, blurring with the rushing movement of cars and flashing signs. The early march wind still held traces of the wintertime and pierced through Tooru’s hoodie, making him shiver against his knees.

From a distance, no one would be able to tell that there was someone crouching at the edge of an abandoned building, teetering back and forth, each forward movement a dangerous swing. Not that Tooru would ever _actually_ fall - the darkness wrapped around his arms and legs like grounding chains, letting him tip for only a few inches before pulling him back. Thick, tangible ribbon-like shadows curled around his body and pulsed with the magic Tooru pulled into it. The atmosphere was quiet, distant sounds of night animals echoing through the air.

It was nice, he supposed, the feeling of being so separate from everything else. He stayed like that - relaxed, skittering around with magic - for what felt like hours, knowing trying to sleep back at home would only end fruitlessly. Ever since moving into his temporary apartment, getting rest had been close to near impossible. He had discovered this a few days ago, wandering around the city to familiarize himself with the landscape, and ever since then he had frequented here during the nights that felt too long.

Sometime into the night, Tooru suddenly sensed _him._ He didn’t need sight to know he was there - the smell of ozone in the air, a burning crispness in the breeze was all he needed. He tilted his head backwards and smiled lightly.

“I didn’t know you had headquarters in Tokyo too, Ushiwaka,” he said lightly. Sure enough, Ushijima walked into view a few seconds later, constantly fizzing electric sparks running up his arm and lighting up cold, almond eyes. He looked warm, outfit complete with his own scarf and overcoat, and compared to Tooru’s own jeans and hoodie he felt underdressed.

“We have ‘headquarters’ in a lot of places,” Ushijima said in response, after a moment of silence. “You would know, if you joined us.”

His voice sounded dull and monotonous, dripping with false nonchalance, and Tooru knew it was supposed to rile him up, or at least make him feel guilty for rejecting Ushijima’s offer a while back. But he didn’t react to it - didn’t rise to the bait, only blinked owlishly before letting out a snort.

“Thanks for offering again, but I’ll have to say no. I’m not to keen on joining a coven right before my big debut as a witch-in-training!” he sighed, letting the darkness slip through his fingers and falling backwards dramatically. “If the only reason you dropped by was to try and convince me, then goodbye! I don’t want to see you again.”

Ushijima, instead of taking the hint and leaving, took a seat next to Tooru. The ground shimmered only a bit before settling, lighting retreating backwards. Despite the heat that radiated from the electricity, despite the hot sparks dancing around Ushijima’s body, the other’s close presence was chilling.

Tooru shivered at the proximity.

“I hope you realize you’re in Shiratorizawa property right now,” Ushijima said, choosing to ignore Tooru’s words. “We could kick you out right now.”

“But you won’t” Tooru sing-songed back. “Not unless I do something to endanger your people.”

His words held no real confidence. Shiratorizawa could be ruthless and strict when needed, and just the fact that he wasn’t a part of their little group was good enough of an excuse to get rid of him at any time. But he kept the act up anyways, because he _knew_ Ushijima wasn’t cruel enough to do that. Or, well, he hoped so.

Silence lingered in the air, neither knowing what to say next. Ushijima looked down at the city, mouth turning slightly upwards at the sight of the far-off people, enjoying the view. Tooru played with the shadows again, fingertips darkened and seemingly attached to the night sky. As the wind blew strands of hair out of sight, it wasn’t easy to miss the way Ushijima shiver and pull his overcoat closer to himself.

(Ushijima was always cold, Tooru noticed, no matter what he was wearing or what the weather was like.)

“Why are you here?” Ushijima’s voice suddenly started, giving Tooru a curious glance.

Tooru sighed, breath turning into a dark cloud. “Didn’t I say? I’m here for my witch training.”

At this, Ushijima frowned. “I thought you were joking.”

“Oh? And why would I be joking?”

“Because becoming a witch should be the last thing on your mind. Someone who is as wise as you surely wouldn’t.”

“Aww, you think i’m wise? Thanks, Ushiwaka!” Tooru turned his head so he would be looking directly into Ushijima’s eyes, giving his own, cold stare. “But even if you say becoming a witch _should be the last thing on my mind,_ I’m still going to go to the academy.”

“Then you are a fool,” Ushijima said, voice full of confidence and conviction. “What is the point of going through such a hassle?”

“It’s not a hassle,” Tooru insisted. “It’s my dream.”

“Oh, really?” For once, Ushijima’s voice had some emotion other than stoic calmness - the barest hint of sarcasm could be detected, especially in the way he lifted an eyebrow.

 _“Was_ my dream,” he corrected with gritted teeth. “Either way, it doesn’t matter to me. Continuing school is my easiest option. I can deal with it.”

“You could run away.”

A simple suggestion, but Tooru’s throat tightened at the words. Of course, Ushijima was one-hundred percent correct. He _could_ run away - surely, that would solve all his issues. He wouldn’t have to deal with the stress of having to pretend, of having to work and act.

But no, he would _not_ run away. “You make it sound so easy, Ushiwaka-chan.”

“But isn’t it? We fight for the same thing, as much as you try to deny it. Run away and come to Shiratorizawa - we can work for our goal together.”  
  
Tooru didn’t bother with an answer, instead looking back towards the outstretched city. “Do you really have the right to call me a fool?” He outstretched his hands, smiling coyly at the other. “I don’t care if we started the same way. What matters is what happens after. Call me an idiot all you want, but I’ll be the one winning by the end. _Then_ we’ll see who the fool is.”

Ushijima briefly glanced over, with some sort of pinched expression. “Oh, really?” he repeated, although this time the sarcasm was gone. “If that’s what you think.”

“It’s what I know.” The night sky was getting lighter - the first signs of a new day. _I ’ve been up here for too long ,_ he thought to himself, wrapping his arms around his knees.

A quiet atmosphere lingered, after that. He couldn’t tell what Ushijima was thinking, behind the impassive expression, but then again, he never _had_ been able to from the start. Ushijima Wakatoshi was an enigma, a mystery Tooru wasn’t particularly eager to solve, an unstoppable force with questionable motives. He recalled their first meeting with a shudder.  

“Take this final advice,” Ushijima finally said, tilting his head. “Facts and dreams are quite different. It’d be best to learn how to differentiate them now, before you hurt the people around you.”

Before he could respond, Ushijima walked off the building, disappearing to the concrete abyss below.

And really, he should have felt at least a little frustrated at the way Ushijima treated him. He should have called the other back and demanded an apology.  Or perhaps, he should be feeling a bit concerned, as he was pretty sure the magic of electricity didn’t include protection from long-distance falls. As much as he argued with Ushijima, it would be terrible if he actually ended up getting fatally injured.

But in reality, Tooru felt nothing. Nothing as he watched Ushijima disappear, nothing has he got up and walked back home, the sky painted with early pink hues.

No, the truth was, Oikawa Tooru hadn’t felt anything in the past year.

 _“Facts and dreams are quite different. It’d be best to learn how to differentiate them now, before you hurt the people around you.”_ Ushijima’s words echoed around Tooru’s mind - he sneered at them, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets and finally walking into his apartment.

It felt just as empty as it had when he first arrived, even if the place was decorated to his liking. His parents had decided it would be best for him to live independently for a few weeks before the school year started, so the transition from his home to the city would be a bit easier. Of course, in his case, it didn’t really matter, but he had gone along with the plan to give his parents some mental rest. They had practically been breathing down his shoulder ever since the incident anyways, and the freedom was alleviating.

“Dreams? Facts?” He muttered to himself. “As if I wouldn’t know the difference.”

And Tooru _knew_ \- knew everything about just how different those two things could be. Why wouldn’t he?

It wasn’t like he could dream, after all.

 

* * *

_ <12 Years Ago> _

 

Oikawa Tooru remembers first learning about magic.

He was six then, and so was Iwaizumi Hajime, a fellow classmate and neighbor who had just recently moved in. Tooru didn’t know much about the other, except that he was quiet, and that he currently had the green crayon he wanted in his hand.

Their allowed free time only lasted an hour, and Tooru usually spent it coloring. Today was no different as well, and the fact that his usual schedule wasn’t going as planned bothered him. He _always_ used that crayon - didn’t Iwaizumi know? Yellow-green was his favorite shade to use to color the fields of grass. It was worn from the years of use, and the thought of it being used by _someone else_ made Tooru approach the other with practiced charm.

“Hi,” he said with a chirpy voice. “I’m Oikawa Tooru!”

The other glanced slightly up from his paper - Tooru only caught a glimpse of red and green before it was covered by a pair of small arms.

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” he introduced after a moment of hesitance. “You’re my neighbor, right?”

“Yep!” he replied enthusiastically, not too surprised he remembered. Their neighborhood was small after all, and they saw each other in the mornings from time to time. “Can I see what you’re drawing?”

At this, Iwaizumi’s face scrunched up. “No.”

Tooru frowned at that - most of the time, he found that if you paid attention to others, they were more willing to be nice. But judging by the way Hajime brushed off Tooru, it was obvious that he didn’t want attention. “Then can I borrow the crayon you’re using?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m using it.”

Tooru pursed his lips at that and crossed his arms. Within seconds, his friendly demeanor was disappearing. “So do I! It’s basically my crayon. I’ll only use it for a few seconds!”

“I said _no. ”_

Really, judging by the way Iwaizumi curled over his paper as if it were some sort of forsaken secret should have been his first sign to just back off, and maybe find a new coloring utensil. But Tooru was stubborn, and the cold way he was being treated annoyed him.

“Well, I said I _need_ it.”

He could tell Iwaizumi was starting to get impatient as well - he gave him an unrelenting stare. Tooru didn’t back down though, holding out his hand and shaking it to demand attention.

“Just give me the _crayon!”_

Things got out of hand quickly, then.

He wasn’t exactly sure what triggered it - maybe Iwaizumi was just having a bad day, and Tooru’s incessant pestering tipped him over the edge. Or he had a short temper. Either way, one second Tooru was about to cause a scene and then the next second, a giant, crooked root shot out from the ground and almost impaled Tooru, missing him by only a few centimeters.

Tooru didn’t have the time to think - within moments, flowers began to bloom faster than he’d ever thought possible, light pink dotting the gnarly branch that was so close it felt like it was touching him.

As one might expect from a six year old child - Tooru screamed. He screamed, falling backwards, both terrified at the sudden miracle and intrigued. Trees weren’t supposed to grow _inside,_ especially not as fast as that, right?

But there it was, solid evidence of something that clearly should not be possible. Its skin was a yellow-green color, exactly like the crayon he wanted.

Not that he wanted it anymore. The writhing, somehow living thing in front of him was much more interesting than any drawing of grass he could ever produce.

Iwaizumi was immediately sent to the principal’s office, of course. Tooru felt a little sorry, seeing the guilt and shame that was written clearly all over his facial features. So when he and his mother knocked the weekend after to apologize, all he did was smile and say it was fine.

Was it pity? Or an understanding that whatever had happened was an accident? Either way, to the surprise of everyone, the two of them started to hang out more after that. They spent their time together, going to each other’s houses, and talking about the latest cartoons they had seen. Sometimes, when Tooru begged hard enough, Iwaizumi would even grow flowers from their backyard, only to make them disappear seconds later in fear of getting caught.  
“I’m not allowed to use it yet…” he explained one playdate. “Mom said I might hurt people, like the way I almost hurt you.”  
  
“But it’s pretty!” Tooru complained. He wouldn’t mind being in danger again, if he could just see those pink, blooming petals up close once more. Sure, he saw them high up in the sky during springtime on the tree branches, but those felt so out of reach, so distant. Iwaizumi - not only in the way plants grew around him, but also in his actions and words - was grounding, something tangible and easy to talk to.

Yes, Tooru remembers first learning about magic, because that was when he became best friends with Iwaizumi Hajime.

 

* * *

_ <2 Years Ago> _

The autumn wind is barely chilly, and as soon as he reaches his school rooftop Tooru takes off his blazer. Not far behind him is Iwaizumi, who kicks away the stray autumn leaves from their sitting spot before taking a seat himself. It’s silent between the two of them, the only sound being the other students outside the school and the wind blowing through the sea of brown and yellow trees. Usually, there’s nothing awkward about the quiet - they’ve grown close enough that words aren’t always used when they’re together - but something about the atmosphere feels heavy on his shoulders.

Maybe it’s the talk they just got from their teacher - already, they’re third years, and the very real reality of university looms a lot closer than the most of them would like to admit. They’re expected to at least have a basic idea of what school or field of study they want to pursue by the end of the month - which, to Tooru, doesn't seem like enough time at all - and judging by the way Iwaizumi has his forehead wrinkled he feels the same.

“Hey,” he starts when Iwaizumi stares at his bento mindlessly. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

It’s like muscle memory, the way he scoots closer and takes out his own lunch and personal snack - milk bread, of course. The cold concrete wall behind him feels familiar from the years he’s sat up here with Iwaizumi, most of the sunlight blocked by shadows. Iwaizumi shifts so he’s slightly facing Tooru almost automatically as well, and for a second he thinks he sees a pained expression on the other’s face.

But it fades a second later, replaced with his usual frown. Tooru blinks to chase away the terrible feeling blooming in his chest and repeats the question.

“Huh?” Iwaizumi responds absentmindedly, and that’s the first solid sign that something isn’t right. “You know, just stuff. Future stuff.”

Tooru simply makes an affirmative noise and takes a bit out of his milk bread. He looks to see if Iwaizumi will say anything about eating dessert first, but for once he doesn’t seem to notice.

 _He must really be worried,_ Tooru thinks, _to not even notice what I’m eating._

“What about future stuff?” he asks airily. “Don’t you already know what you want to be?”

And it’s true - ever since Iwaizumi declared that he wanted to be a witch doctor in elementary school his answer hasn’t changed. Tooru’s pretty sure the other wouldn't give up his ambition for the world.

“I know, I know,” Iwaizumi says, and this time he looks directly at Tooru with focused eyes. “I’m just getting second thoughts. Although I worry most about you.”

“What? Why me? There’s nothing to worry about, Iwa-chan,” he starts with feigned nonchalance, but deep down Tooru starts to squirm. He can _feel_ the questions coming.

“There’s lots to worry about,” he says with a frown. “You don’t even know what you want to major in, much less what school to go to.”

Tooru’s glad he took of his blazer earlier - he feels choked suddenly, as if invisible hands are wrapped around his throat and squeezing the truth out of him. He looks away from Iwaizumi’s gaze, knowing that if he looks any longer he’ll break.

“That’s a lie, actually,” he admits with a weak smile, now staring at his food. The milk bread feels thick and heavy, nothing like the usual fluffiness it holds. “I know exactly what I want to do. So don’t overuse that little brain of yours Iwa-chan, I have it all-”

“Wait, _what?”_ Iwaizumi interrupts. “You never told me that. Actually, if I remember correctly, when I asked you about it exactly a week ago all you said was _I don’t know.”_

“Um… _oops?”_

“Shittykawa, what the fuck do you mean _oops?_ Spill. What’s so bad about it that you don’t want to share? Do you want to be a stripper or something?”

“What? No!” Tooru rapidly shakes his head with wide eyes. _This is it,_ he tells himself. _Time to be honest._ It takes a while to collect his thoughts though, wondering the best way to phrase it, but Iwaizumi patiently waits with a stern expression.

“I, um. Funny thing really, it’s a bit unrealistic but-”

“Stop stalling and just _tell me.”_

“I want to be a witch and apply to Tokyo Mahou Academy,” he says with an almost silent breath. It tumbles out quickly, and he can _see_ the realization hit Iwaizumi, _see_ the way his eyes widen and lips thin.

He’s wanted to be one as long as he can remember, even moreso when he was told in elementary that his father used to be one before passing early. And for most people, it isn’t too bad or hard of a career to pursue.

But there’s one problem - Tooru, unfortunately, doesn’t have any magic. He’s watched others with envy, with hopeful eyes, observing the way elements and objects move and obey simple words and hand motions, but never once has he been able to do anything like that himself. Never once has he manipulated fire, or controlled water, or even performed the simplest of magical spells.

No, Tooru is simply limited in his abilities. And the thought that someone like _him_ might study to be a _witch_ of all things, well...

It’s quite laughable. Impractical, even, from an objective standpoint. Which was the reason why he never told anyone - until now, that is.

“Are you being serious?” Iwaizumi’s voice is sharp, cutting right into Tooru’s thought process “Don’t fuck with me, Oikawa.”

Tooru takes a deep breath, composure almost faltering. “I’m not fucking with you. I’m completely serious.”

For a single, charged moment, the air is thick with unsaid words and some sort of strange tension.

Then all of a sudden, Iwaizumi bursts out into laughter.

“You - _you want to be a witch._ You, the person who _doesn’t_ even have magic!” His voice carries in the wind, twittering like the early bird calls in the morning, grasping onto the wind and swaying with the autumn winds.  
  
His ears immediately burn red, and in retaliation Tooru whines while punching Iwaizumi not-so-lightly on the shoulders. He hopes no one around is listening. “Shut up! You’re the only person I’ve ever told, so don’t make fun of me!”

“Sorry,” he says in between breaths, after a few solid minutes of giggling, “I’m not making fun of you.”

“Mhm,” Tooru mutters while taking another bite into his desert. It’s still heavy in his mouth, and for a second he’s afraid his favorite food has lost its flair forever. 

“It’s just crazy to think of someone without any magic attending a school _designed_ to cultivate that very power.”

“I know it’s kind of unrealistic, but hear me out-”

“No need,” Iwaizumi interrupts again, and usually Tooru would complain about being cut off, but the way he says those two words makes him shut up and just listen. “If any non-magical person could be a witch, I know it’d be you.”

It takes a moment to process those words - and when he does, he finds himself unable to stop smiling. The wind blows again, blowing the strands of hair covering his face away, and when he takes the last bite of his milk bread it’s sweet and fluffy and all kinds of warm.

They go back to class after that - lunch period only lasts so long - the unknown tension from before gone. It’s when they’re going down the stairs that Tooru finally says something.

“Thank you,” he whispers, and his heart is full of all kinds of emotions. It’s hard to sort through them all, but the one he can feel for sure is _hope._ Surely, if someone who’s as strong and talented in magic as Iwaizumi believes in him then maybe…

...maybe he has a chance, after all. Maybe, he can really become a witch without magic.

 

* * *

Tooru gets rejected.

“Dear Oikawa Tooru,” he reads out loud in a shaky voice when he first gets the letter. “We are sorry to say that we could not accept your application. Please understand that we can only accept a handful of students every year, and therefore we can not immediately invite everyone. Thank you for your-”

That’s the furthest he can go before stopping himself.

 _It’s okay,_ a number of people tell him. _There are other colleges out there that would love to accept you! Think of other majors to go into! Technically, you still have a chance. You did the best you could._

But all Tooru hears is a never ending chant of __not good enough, not good enough, not good enough. Not good enough for the academy, not good enough for witches, just not_ strong enough. _

Of course, he knows that there are other ways to deal with mystical creatures or curses that doesn’t require direct magic - they’re just not in much practice anymore because it’s much harder. But for someone like Oikawa, it’s the only choice they have. And _oh , ~~~~_ he had hoped that Tokyo Mahou would be willing to supply and help him with all the things to continue his dream, because as long as he had the passion, as long as he was willing to go the extra mile to catch up to everyone else, it wouldn’t matter, right?

Apparently not. Even when he had given his all, even when he had passed the technical test with flying colors, _even then._

Even then, his all just hadn’t been enough.

 _Magic,_ Tooru thinks, _Is like a seed. Everyone gets one. The time it takes for it to grow, the conditions it requires to flourish, is all different. The flowers each seed grows into are unique to each person, having it’s own color scheme and fragrances. And if magic is a seed, then the world is a garden._

_And if the world is a garden, then I’m the weed that’s plucked out before fully blooming._

When Tooru was younger, he could hope and dream all he wanted. Everyone developed abilities at their own pace after all, and the fact that he had no sign of any magic before he turned ten was considered normal.

But soon he was going through puberty and growing faster than he could think with still no sign of magic. By then, most children had at least _something._ From time to time he heard of miracles happening - stories where people developed magic way past the expected age range - but even before the letter from Tokyo Mahou, he knew there wasn’t much hope for him.

A foolish, childish part of him doesn’t stop dreaming, though. When the sky is particularly clear one night, and one can see the stars, Tooru looks out from his room and closes his eyes. _Please,_ he thinks to no one in particular. _Give me the magic to be strong. That’s all I ask for._

Little does he know that his wish will come true.

And when it _does_ , he finds himself wondering why he wished for something so selfish and terrible in the first place.

 

* * *

 

_ <1 Year and 6 Months Ago> _

 

It happens on a random winter night, the sky painted dark with grey clouds covering the moon. Tooru doesn’t need to see to know that the winds are harsh, the sound of bending branches giving and the humidity in the air a clear sign of oncoming rain. With the lack of light in his room, Tooru can barely make out his wall clock, which seems to read around 2: 15 AM.

His heart beats erratically, as if someone jolted him awake, but he isn’t sure why. His body is uncomfortably warm under his blankets, so he ends up wriggling out into the cool air.

 _A nightmare,_ he realizes after finding sweat sticking to his arms, and judging by the way his eyes are wide he won’t be able to go back to sleep anytime soon. He spends a few minutes trying to recall the contents of his dream, only to come up empty handed.

In the middle of his thoughts, his phone lights up, illuminating the room with a harsh, artificial light - a text message. Blinking rapidly, Tooru clumsily grabs it and wonders who it could be at this time of the night.

He almost drops it when he sees the sender - _Iwaizumi Hajime._

Now, Tooru sends messages to his friend in the middle of the night all the time. But Iwaizumi never responds, because he’s the one who falls asleep around or before midnight every day. The fact that the other is texting him _now_ is both a surprise and a concern.

Tooru unlocks his phone, unsure of what to expect. Some sort of missed homework assignment? Late night thoughts?

(And it’s amazing, he thinks while looking back, how much one small thing can change his entire world.)

His blood runs cold when he sees what it says - and no amount of wondering could have prepared him for _this,_ and the black text sends shivers up his spine that has nothing to do with the winter.

 

_[2:17 AM] Iwa-chan: If you want to see your friend alive, come to the park._

 

_[2:17 AM] Iwa-chan: Tell no one. Come alone. If you do not follow my instructions I will kill your friend immediately_

 

Tooru’s feet are moving before he even realizes what he’s doing. His mind races with who the texter could possibly be - because it obviously isn’t Iwaizumi, his friend would never play a prank like this - and what they could possibly want from him.

Maybe it’s some sort of magical sadist - a member of some sort of coven. He’s heard countless stories before, of people gone crazy for power and terrorizing normal citizens to try and harvest abilities.

But why threaten him? Why so suddenly? There’s no time to think, to breathe - that text means Iwaizumi is in _trouble,_ and Tooru’s the only one who can save him.

He’s not wearing anything but his pajamas as he leaves as quietly as he can, using his phone as a flashlight to guide him in the night. The moon seems to be hidden behind clouds, making it even it harder for him to see, but he manages to stumble his way through town.

The park the mysterious texter refers to is no doubt the one only a five minute walk from his house. It’s the only one around their neighborhood. Against the sky, the empty tree branches resemble fingers reaching upward, blurring with each hurried step that sends blood pumping through his veins, filling his legs with adrenaline. Soon enough, he’s met with the familiar sign that reads, _Miyagi Central Park_ with chipped paint and a white-painted fence around it that does little to keep people like Tooru out when closed.

For a while, all Tooru does is aimlessly go around, not sure where exactly Hajime might be. There’s no sign of life at the zoo, or the bigger playgrounds, or the carousel or hiking path. Despite being athletic he can feel his lungs strain to keep up, feet burning with every step forward - he doesn’t bother to stop, though, the thought of Iwaizumi hurt (even worse, dying) giving him the extra boost he needs.

Soon, he’s visited all of the park except for one, tiny playground with swingsets and slides meant for toddlers. He remembers the area the most fondly, memories full of hot summer days and melting ice cream. Tooru wouldn’t even be able to count the numbers of hours he’s spent there playing tag, urging Iwaizumi to grow different plants. 

He shakes off the nostalgia when a horrid smell hits him - it’s sickeningly familiar, with an iron-like must that’s undeniably _blood._

Running even faster now, he only manages to skid to a stop when he enters the clearing, eyes widening and unsure of what to focus on first.

The swings creak ominously as the wind pushes them, breezes bringing over heat and the scent of something burnt. He notices Iwaizumi crumpled on the ground, an alarming amount of dark stains on the wood chips underneath him.

In fact, he almost looks… _dead._

The fond recollection of the park instantly disappears, and he knows he won’t be able to think back to his childhood without thinking of _this -_ Iwaizumi, bleeding out on the ground with no one to help him. Iwaizumi, limp and unmoving, with a shadow of a figure looming over him like a twisted bodyguard. He sees lightning moving up broad shoulders, sparks that dance around the stranger’s body.

 _A magic-user,_ he manages to comprehend, mind still in a state of panic and shock. _What should I do? I can’t fight him, I’m not that stupid. But… Hajime is right there, slowly dying. Maybe already dead. I have to do something, anything,_ fast-

The stranger looks up then, a faint smile on his face. “So you’ve arrived, Oikawa Tooru.” The way he says his name is chilling, almost familiar.

He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out, throat tight and closed. He tries again, stronger this time, a white hot anger bubbling underneath his skin. _“Who the fuck are you and what have you done to Hajime?”_ Tooru spits out. _Words_ \- he doesn’t have magic, but he has words, and they roll out roughly and forcefully. His body feels stiff, and he doesn’t intend for a physical fight, but he can feel himself get into a defensive pose instinctively.

The stranger cocks his head, as if analyzing the other. “I am Ushijima Wakatoshi. There’s no need to be afraid. I promise I will not hurt you or your friend any more.”

Tooru narrows his eyes - there _has_ to be a catch. Magic users are tricky bastards, after all, especially the ones that have too much power.

“That is, I won’t if you cooperate.”

 _Ah, there it is,_ the thinks to himself. In the middle of his thoughts, he finds himself searching for any sort of tattoo or sign that’ll show him who exactly Ushijima is. He only manages to get a glimpse of some sort of bird - a bird of prey for sure, wings folded behind while diving forward - before the embroidered badge is lost in the darkness again. Tooru doesn’t need to see much more though - this is a coven member for sure.

When he realizes Ushijima is waiting for a response, he almost scoffs and says he’s not afraid at all - but then he notices his shaking hands and realizes it’s not from adrenaline, it’s from _fear _,_ _ and he can’t help but be paralyzed in the face of someone who could surely kill him, or even, _kill Hajime._

Tooru isn’t sure what would be worse.

“What do you want?” he says, and it comes out much calmer than he’s feeling. He’s talking to a human, after all, right? Coven members usually aren't spirits, no matter how twisted the rules are in each one. He should be able to somehow get out of this logically.

“It’s not what I want, but what _you_ want,” Ushijima starts with a stoic expression. He can’t help but be a bit enraptured by the lights flashing around him, briefly illuminating olive-green hair and almond eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“I know who you are, Oikawa Tooru,” he continues, “and I know what you want. I came here to give you an offer.”

This doesn’t sound promising at all. Deals with magic-users are dangerous - it’s even worse since Ushijima somehow knows his name. He’s always been told to never make a contract with someone shady, as they can be binding, but looking at the way Ushijima is staring him down he feels like he won’t have much of a choice.  

“I can give you the power of magic and the promise to keep your friend alive, in exchange for one thing. That is, your heart.”

His words echo, charged with extra meaning that Tooru can’t even begin to comprehend. “My… _heart._ For magic. _”_ Tooru’s mind is buzzing - slowly, he comes to the realization of exactly what Ushijima is offering. Never before has someone born without magic gained it in a way that wasn’t natural - it’s _impossible -_ but right now, this _stranger_ he just met is offering to do just that. No, even more than something impossible - he’s offering a miracle. A miracle that would most likely change Tooru’s life to something great, to the life he’s always dreamed of.

 _It’s too good to be true._ Just the thought of not only getting out of this situation mostly unharmed, but also with _magic_ -

-it makes him burst out into laughter. 

“Why do you laugh? I am not joking,” Ushijima says, and he seems genuinely confused.

“Sorry, just-” Tooru says in between gasps, “I can’t believe this.”

“Trust me, it is very possible.”

“Wow, yes, I am totally going to trust the person who potentially murdered my best friend and is offering me a very unrealistic deal on _magic,”_ he says as sarcastically as he can, momentarily forgetting that he’s in danger.

“Of course you will,” Ushijima states, and the way he says it makes it sound like a fact, “you have no other option _but_ to trust me.”

The words are like ice water waking him up, the laughter dying in his throat. “And what if I don’t?” A daring question, and his heart beats erratically from the thought that this might just be what pushes Ushijima over the edge to kill the both of them.

“Then I kill your friend right now,” he says simply, “and I take your heart by force.

Tooru's heart stutters at that, hand twitching - he should run now, try to get some outside help. It's becoming more obvious he can't win by himself, not when someone even as  _powerful_ as Iwaizumi is down. If he runs just fast enough - then maybe,  _maybe_ he can make it with Iwaizumi. He feels his legs move by themselves, taking cautious steps forward, trying to lure Ushijima away from the body. 

He barely takes a step forward before a white-hot pain runs up his right knee, causing him to cry out and fall down. It  _burns,_ and the smell of burning flesh fills his nose, momentarily paralyzing him from doing anything but screaming. Tears form from the corner of his eyes, dripping down embarrassingly.

 

 

"That was a warning," Ushijima says, and there's no trace of any pity or emotion. "Try to move again and I won't hesitate to hit your friend next."

This time, when Tooru starts laughing, his voice his full of tears. 

 _I must look so pathetic,_ he thinks - brought down in less than a second, reduced to a blubbering mess because of a little shock. But he can't help but shiver against the grassy floor, and Iwaizumi looks so  _close_ and yet so far.

If only he were stronger -  _if only he had magic._ Then, maybe, he would have had a chance at winning. Then, maybe, the two of them wouldn't be dying.

Then, maybe, he would have fought back.

But he doesn't, not even when Ushijima tilts his head and clears his throat. "Are you done?"

Tooru merely nods. "What do you want from me?" His voice is small - the earlier, explosive anger is gone, replaced with a heavy silence. 

"I mentioned it before. Your heart." 

he looks up, and with the darkness he can feel his eyes illuminate from the small sparks coming from Ushijima's body. They're full of salt and water, he's sure, hundreds of tears just waiting to be released. “Why do you need my heart?”

“For the same reason you are willing to give it up.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” A sickening feeling tells Tooru knows _exactly_ what he means, but the question comes out anyways.

“It means you care for your friend too much. You’ve already made a decision, haven’t you?”

Tooru licks his lips - he doesn’t like the way this is going at all, especially since it feels like he’s being given barely any time to think this through. This is a _contract_ he’s making.

But all he needs to do is take one, last look at Iwaizumi’s fallen self to look directly into Usijima’s eyes. Of course, it would be most idea for him to pick through Ushijima’s words to look for any hidden messages or loopholes, but there’s just simply not enough time.

“I have.” He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his shaky hands. “I… I, Oikawa Tooru, accept your offer.”

In a blink of an eye, Ushijima is right in front of him, arms outstretched. It doesn’t take a genius to notice the intense potential magic in the palm of his hand - a handshake will seal the deal, forever trap Tooru into the contract Ushijima has stated. He won’t be able to just take Iwaizumi and run without giving up his heart first - whatever that entails.

He reaches his own hand out, and shakes it.

A tingling sensation runs up his arm, rapidly spreading throughout, turning his body numb. Distantly he hears Ushijima say something _,_ but before he can process it, he finds himself being enveloped in darkness.

* * *

When Tooru opens his eyes, he’s in a white room.

He isn’t sure if it’s a room, actually - there’s no clear sign of an end or a beginning anywhere. Just empty, infinite space. In front of him is Ushijima, still grasping his hand, no traces of earlier lightning. There's no sign of his earlier injury either, knee perfectly intact and not blown apart. 

Somewhere to the side, he notices a giant balance. It’s gold, seemingly glowing with intricate curls that dance around chains. It’s tipped, one dish empty and the other full of a dark cloud that looks like hundreds of shadows clumped together.

Besides the two of them and the contraption, there’s nothing else around.

“Where’s Iwa-chan?” he says, and takes a step back upon hearing his own, strangely-echoing voice

“Back at the park,” Ushijima states. “We’ll get to him as soon as we’re done with this.”

“And what exactly is… _this?”_

Ushijima looks to the balance, eyes softening for just a second. “This is the exchange room.”

Room seems like an understatement, but Tooru doesn’t say anything. He’s drawn towards the darkness - it looks as if it’s pulsing, constantly shifting yet managing to stay still. Tooru wonders what’s supposed to go on the other side - or if there’s supposed to be anything there at all.

“If I am to take your heart,” Ushijima starts, looking away from Tooru, “I must give something in return. So, I am giving you magic.”

“Is that- _magic?”_ he asks, gesturing to the dark mass. It’s both what he expected and not all all what he thought it would be like. Both powerful, yet underwhelming. Both captivating and uninteresting. 

“Yes,” he admits, a bit uncertainly. “I gathered it from the air around us. Did you know? Magic is not only within humans, but in nature as well. Since it was nighttime, the darkness was what was most abundant. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t care, as long as I get to Hajime after this.” He lets out a hollow laugh. “It’s not like this is actually going to work, right?”

“Do you still disbelieve? Then give me your heart.” Ushijima sound so serious, Tooru isn’t sure what to do.

“Uh… what?” he ends up saying.

Tooru sees a flash of impatience in Ushijima, before his facial expression straightens to it’s usual neutrality. “Here, let me-”

It happens too quickly, too suddenly _,_ and Tooru thinks that there’s absolutely _nothing_ in the world that could have prepared him for such a terrible sensation. His reaction is delayed, because one second Ushijima is just standing there and the next thing he knows, Ushijima’s hand is wrist-deep in his chest.

And Tooru _screams._ Never before has he felt such pain - even worse then his knee, it feels as if his personal privacy is being disturbed, as if there’s something unnatural _crawling_ through his chest, but there’s no blood, no real sign of injury at all - in fact, his clothes and skin look like water, the way they just ripple as Ushijima searches. The fingers roam, pushing through layers and layers and going so deep he thinks his hand is going to pop out on the other side at any moment. 

Finally, _finally,_ after what feels like an eternity Ushijima stops - with one, final pull that makes his toes curl and eyes flutter from the intense _pop_ \- and out comes a red, pulsing stone.

And when it does, something in Tooru _dies._

He can’t tell exactly what it is, though - not yet, anyways. He stares blankly at the beating gem which doesn’t make any sense because he’s pretty sure humans aren’t supposed to have things like that in their organs.

Ushijima wordlessly puts it on the unweighted dish.

For something so small, it must be _heavy ,_ and he wonders how Ushijima carried it all. The balance tips the other way faster than he can blink, teetering dangerously close to the ground before snapping back up and stabilizing.

The dark cloud begins to move, then.

It’s fluid-like, flashes of greys and blacks mixing together and approaching. Tooru doesn’t even have the strength to panic or to move out of the way anymore - it approaches, and he lets it.

Similar to the way Ushijima stuffed his hand inside Tooru, the dark mass begins to worm its way into him with almost-cold, writhing tendrils, starting from where his heart is supposed to be.

And _oh,_ he _feels_ it - a tingling sensation that runs up his entire body, spreading through veins and filling his fingertips with an unfamiliar feeling. It slithers, from the soles of his feet to the very top of his head, eyes glowing with unmistakable _power._

 _This,_ Tooru thinks, _is magic._

When the process is over, Tooru blinks a few times and stretches his fingers - his body feels strange, as if it isn’t his own. “What-” his voice comes out husky and dry, so Tooru clears his throat and tries again. “What now?”

“Now, you go back and call the hospital. I wouldn’t advice telling anyone what just happened.”

“No, I know that. I mean what happens to _me.” What did I lose in order to get this power?_

“You?” Ushijima raises an eyebrow. “Well… even I do not know what this means for you. You’re the first person to survive the process.”

 _Survive._ He supposes that should be a good thing but - just judging from the gaping, empty sensation in his chest, he isn’t sure if he’s survived at all. Living things are supposed to have some sign of life, right? But there’s nothing like that in him now, he can _feel_ it - no heartbeat, no pulse, no fresh blood flowing throughout his body.

Just darkness.

“Well, until the next time we meet,” Ushijima says after a beat of awkward silence.

Before he can retort, or ask anymore questions, the space around him begins to distort and Ushijima fades away with it, blinking a few times to find himself back in the park. It feels as if the night sky is sticking to him now, and every joint aches, but he manages to crawl to Iwaizumi’s body. It’s alarmingly cold, and Tooru finds himself checking for a pulse hurriedly.

For some reason, he doesn’t feel relieved when he finds one.

The realization hits him slowly - it isn’t until he’s called 119 for an ambulance and the sirens are close enough to echo loudly in his ears that Tooru realizes just exactly losing his heart has done.

When Hajime’s body is safely being carried away, he feels no relief. When he checks his knee and finds it bloodied and bent the wrong way, he feels no concern. When he manages to bend the darkness around him, manages to _finally_ bend magic and reality, he feels no excitement.

No, Oikawa Tooru finds himself unable to feel anything at all.

 


	2. Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is here, yayy! 
> 
> I just wanted to mention, that Ushijima DOES have a reason for doing what he did to Tooru in the previous chapter. I love him and I wouldn't make him a senseless villain for the sake of having a villain? Hahaha but the explanation for why isn't in this chapter.... My next update will probably be slower because im out for two weeks! But until then, please enjoy what I have so far
> 
> Note: This is unbeta-ed, so if you see any spelling errors or something like that just let me know

 

 

_“Even if i’m no longer really me_

_There’s still a part that lives inside-_

_My heart that hopes to be._

_By your side until you reach the end_

_No matter what I am by then_

_I’ll always be your friend"_

[”His Theme (Lizz Robinett)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rage9TTBJFE&list=PLdEKMZB_oWNZzaV9KA52ZtC3QnrGRiCO2&index=4)

 

 

When Tooru wakes up to the sound of rain pounding against his window, it’s sometime in between midnight and early morning, the world still asleep.

Darkness envelops him, slithering through his fingers as Tooru rubs at his eyes and peeks through his window. The sky is empty, simply full of grey blurs that are even harder to discern with the water streamlets that cover them. It’s cold, late spring night air seeping through his thin apartment walls, and Tooru finds himself feeling something akin to relief at the reminder that today is his last day before moving out.

His apartment looks as empty as can be, the only ‘furniture’ being his moving boxes stacked nicely on top of each other and his temporary futon that he bought a while ago, not willing to bring an entire bed to such a temporary living place. There’s no trace of Tooru other than those items - not a hair out of place, every item and utensil left just as it was found when he first checked in.

He shifts, trying to get more comfortable, and at that point Tooru knows there’s no use in trying to go back to sleep. In cases like this, he would usually go out, but judging by the weather he isn’t sure if that’s a good idea. He isn’t sure if Ushijima would find him again either, memories of nights on that rooftop tainted by their last encounter, words discouraging him from going to school still echoing around his head.

 _Doubt. Relief._ Even if he doesn’t have a ‘heart’ per say, there are small times when Tooru gets a shadow of an old feeling - like now, how a somewhat melancholy mood seems to stick to his skin, just by thinking of what’s going to happen tomorrow.

Right, tomorrow - or technically today, Tooru thinks - the day of first year orientation. Not that Tooru is a _first year_ per say. Surprisingly, when he had submitted an application to Tokyo Mahou a few months after being released from the hospital, they not only accepted him without the physical part of the exam, but also allowed him to join as a second-year transfer student.

Of course, that offer only stood if Tooru was willing to do all the work in order to catch-up with his age group. He didn’t hesitate to answer back with a _yes._ They also recommended he go to the orientation, and with nothing else to do on his hands and a desire to get out of his cramped apartment, he found himself telling everyone he would be going weeks before.

A text message momentarily illuminates the room - a somewhat disturbing replay of the past - and Tooru has to squint at the harsh light for a few seconds to make out the message.

There’s two, actually - one from Iwaizumi a few hours ago, and another from his sister just now. He decides to read the one from his friend first, squinting at the short text bubble.

 

_Iwa-chan [11:54 PM] : Good luck tomorrow, shittykawa. Can’t make it to orientation but i’ll see you after._

 

_Iwa-chan [11:55 PM]: Try not to bully any first years when I’m not there, alright?_

 

Tooru sends a quick response, feet tapping lightly against his floor as he does so.

 

_Me [5:16 AM]: Thanks Iwa-chan!!!_

 

_Me [5:16 AM]: And why would I bully first years?_

 

_Me [5:17 AM]: I’ll just show them my love~_

 

He scoffs at that - _love._ As if he could show _anyone_ that. Between the short, painful bursts of phantom emotions, he doubts he’d be able to truly showcase any expression without faking half of it. He doubts any first year will actually interest him, anyways. Keeping human interaction to a minimum is his goal the semester.

Looking at his sister’s text now, it’s a bit longer, full of good wishes for the upcoming school year. As a witch herself, she had already spent the past few months lecturing Tooru on what to expect and how to survive the academy, and this message is no different, full of things to do and who to greet. He ends up saying thank you with a few kaomojis and silences his phone, once again in the darkness.

But there - looking out his window, he can see the beginnings of orange and pink blotting the grey, rainy skies. And _oh,_ very quietly, the drops begin to slow until there’s nothing left but the sunset bleeding out, light spreading like tendrils.

An as the rest of the world wakes up, Tooru can feel his shadow from underneath him, growing longer as the sunlight peers through the curtains, holding the same promise of a new day.

Tooru slips on his knee supporter, slim plastic familiar around his hands as he secures the straps, and stretches to start off. He faintly recalls the first time wearing it, white hospital sheets worn against his tired limbs, everything strangely unstable as he tried to stand while holding onto an IV machine for support.

There had been a discarded heart monitor then too, sitting unplugged in the corner of the room, covered by thin sheets and a small post-it that read _OUT OF USE._

 _“Oh that?”_ his mother had said in a disregarding voice when he asked about it. _“It’s broken. When the doctors tried to hook it up to you it kept on flatlining, no matter what. Funny, huh? But that doesn’t matter - you’re alive and breathing, and we don’t need a machine to see that!_

He had smiled lightly at that, feigning relief and hugging his mother once more, only the phantom trace of guilt plaguing his mind as he waited for a nurse to come by.

His knee is still unstable, although not as much as before, and the supporter is somewhat of a comfort. Something that will never really change, amongst all the things Tooru _still_ has to get used to. It’ll be a bit of a hassle during any kind of battle, but it’ll be bearable. He’s been through much worse after all - no thanks to a certain someone with olive-brown hair and a cold aura.

 _Screw you, Ushijima,_ he thinks to himself. _I’m going to become the greatest witch ever, no matter what I am. Just watch._

 

* * *

 

When Tooru arrives at the entrance gates to Tokyo Mahou, it’s _much_ more crowded than expected. For a school as elitist and selective with their students, he’s surprised to find so many people milling around, although from what he can see there are a lot of upperclassmen giving pamphlets or directions as well. It’s a bit difficult maneuvering with the giant cart he has with him - he has to carry his belongings to his dorm _somehow,_ and his sister had lended him it long ago for this very occasion - but he manages to make his way through without knocking anything over.

No matter how many times he’s seen pictures of this very place from long ago, the extravagant fountain and finely cut trees, with sidewalks lined with flowers of every kind is beautiful, even in his own eyes. Mosaic-style stone decorates the roads, leading Tooru to a huge signpost that points in four directions.

 

_North - Dormitories_

_East - Academy Buildings_

_West - Academy Buildings_

_South - Exit/Entrance_

 

Tooru tilts his head, wondering where he’s supposed to go - dorms or orientation first? - until a voice from behind interrupts his thoughts.

“Hey, welcome to Tokyo Mahou!” says the voice, bright and chipper. Tooru turns around to see bright, golden eyes and hair sticking up in such a strange style it makes him blink twice. “Are you looking for the orientation center? It should be right to the east!”

“Oh, thank you,” Tooru says easily, with a practiced smile. He wasn’t exactly expecting to talk to anyone when he arrived,  “Uh-”

“Bokuto Koutarou,” the stranger introduces, thrusting out his hand. “I’m a second year, here to help!”

The name sounds somewhat familiar, but Tooru can’t quite remember exactly why. “Oikawa Tooru,” he says, taking the hand, surprised by the smoothness of Bokuto’s palm. “I’m a second year as well.”

Bokuto’s eyes widen, as if remembering something important. “Oh! You’re the transfer student!”

Something in Tooru twitches - a feeling of discomfort? - but he buries it under and blinks innocently. “Eh- you know who I am?” Either word of him has gotten around, or Iwaizumi knows this person. Of course, there’s a high chance this person knows him because of _that,_ but he had been hoping nobody would mention it.

The other nods vigorously, fists clenched. “Tokyo Mahou doesn’t usually accept transfer students, so it’s big news. My friend is in charge of helping you settle in, actually! His name’s Kuroo Tetsurou - your roommate, right?”

Oh, right. He _does_ recall seeing that name somewhere in all the paperwork he received, but in the midst of everything he had completely forgotten to contact or do research on him. He makes an affirmative noise, not sure what else to say, and for a second Bokuto has a strange expression on his face. Before Tooru can identify what it is though, it disappears, replaced by the same bright eyes as before.

“Uh- you know, you can bring your stuff to the main office. Unless you want to carry all that around…?” Bokuto says after a brief moment, gesturing to the heavy boxes Tooru has been lugging around all morning.

He decides to question whether Bokuto is trustworthy or not later - now, the aspect of not having to carry his things around sounds nice. “Do you know where the main office is, then?”

“Yep! Just follow me!” Tooru finds himself trailing behind the other, even if a part of him is wary. There’s just something about the way Bokuto moves that tips Tooru off - or maybe he’s just too paranoid. Either way, he has no choice but to follow, and like in any other situation when he meets someone new he finds himself analyzing the other.

Besides the strange hair, Bokuto’s body is muscled in a way that makes it clear he works out. The smoothness of his hands, though, suggest a gentler kind of magic - nothing too flashy or explosive. He’s definitely strong, and friendly too, just judging by the number of people that greet him as they walk. Tooru doesn’t have to worry about making conversation either, because Bokuto simply keeps talking by himself, whether he gives a response or not.  

He can practically _hear_ Iwaizumi telling him to loosen up, but he’s never been too trusting since childhood, and especially after his encounter with Ushijima, Tooru isn’t too keen on getting close with just anybody. But so far, despite his earlier reluctance, Bokuto shows no sign of real danger. Tooru silently decides then, to _maybe_ give the other a chance. For now, anyways.

It doesn’t take long for the two of them to reach the main office. The walk takes a few minutes, giving Tooru time to take everything in - the verdant trees full of life and the marvelous statues that stand tall with marble coats. He spots a few famous witches as well, recognizable from their signature magical abilities, all portrayed with expertly-carved stone.

“Here we are!” Bokuto proclaims, stopping in front of a rather large building. It’s less extravagant than expected, with simple red brick layering and wide, open windows with a revolving door that spins by itself endlessly. Bokuto wordlessly hands the takes the cart from Tooru as if it weighs nothing (not that he was having any _trouble_ with it or anything - just, it’s at that moment when he realizes just how much strength seems to be in the other arms) and rolls it inside. Tooru sighs at the refreshing air conditioning, relaxing from the spring heat outside.

“Room number,” Bokuto asks as they pass the door. The inside looks like a typical office - full of walls painted baby blue, mahogany desks, and a few potted plants and back doors. The only thing out of place is the complete lack of people, not a single soul in sight except for themselves.

“101,” he says automatically, the number engraved into his memory by this point, flinching at the sound of his voice in the empty room. “Where exactly-?”

Tooru doesn’t even get to finish his question before something whizzes past him, eyes struggling to follow. The most he sees is a tag - reading _101_ \- and a small figure with buzzing wings before his entire cart is whisked away in a whirlwind.

“We don’t always need people on duty when we have _that,”_ Bokuto says smugly, as if _he_ was the one who summoned what may have possibly been a fairy. “Even if Tokyo Mahou is a place where you learn how to deal with magical creatures, there are lots of good ones out there! We’re known for calling on their help often.”

“Oh,” is all Tooru says, suddenly imagining some sort of elf wearing a tiny business suit, subbing in for a class. If he had the ability to, he would laugh. “What was that, then?”

“I think it was a sprite,” Bokuto says after a moment of thought. “They’re the ones that usually do heavy-lifting, believe it or not. Anything else you wanna ask?”

“No, no, i’m good,” Tooru says with a quick smile, shifting the weight on his feet, knee beginning to throb. Now that he thinks about it, he wasn’t very thorough with stretches in the morning. That might be an annoyance later, but there’s nothing he can do about it now but quickly go to orientation and take a seat.

Bokuto, as if reading his mind, nods to the door. “Well, what are we waiting for? You have to go to orientation, right?”

He isn’t given a chance to respond - Bokuto runs off, surprisingly quick.

And for some unexplainable reason, Tooru finds himself following, straining his knee just to catch up.

 

* * *

 

After Bokuto leads him to the orientation center - a huge, dome-like building with paneled windows that converge into one, giant antenna at the top - Tooru finds himself alone once more, strumming his fingers against the auditorium chair’s armrests.

All around him are people chattering excitedly, already in groups as the stage at the front of the room stays dark. Anywhere he looks, he sees magic - fiery explosions, electrical outbursts, sudden weather predicaments - and he’s a bit overwhelmed by the raw power this single room holds. He’s somewhat glad that he chose a seat all the way in the back, out of the way of any potential accident. His own magic stays settled, shadows unmoving as he sits deeper into his cushioned chair, and soon enough the entire room silences as the stage lightens up.

A man with short, curly hair and a rather plain green jumper comes out from behind curtains, holding a clipboard. His glasses reflect the image of hundreds of eager students, a surprisingly high-pitched voice echoing across the room as he clears his throat against the microphone.

He introduces himself as Takeda Ittetsu - assistant principal of Tokyo Mahou, before continuing on with the general rules and expectations of the students this year.

Tooru listens intently, foot tapping against the carpeted floor, hearing nothing of interest until Takeda begins to talk about _teams._

“As you all must know,” he continues at one point, voice nicely echoing with the microphone, “Tokyo Mahou is very famous for its magical combat training. As future witches, we believe you all should have some hands-on experience alongside your normal education.”

Excited whispers fill the room - Tooru merely tilts his head.

“In order to meet the needs of the students, we have created a team system that will not only offer this necessity, but also help build upon collaborative and battle skills. By the end of the week, you will be required to fill a team form, with a maximum of four students to be your teammates. These teams are to go out on missions one to three times a month, and you will be evaluated based on performance. Please, choose your teammates wisely, as it will be very difficult to switch teams after they are made.”

After that, the information and videos Takeda shows are rudimentary - curfew, rules, schedules, and more technicalities about their stay here. Tooru soaks all the information in, eyes wide as the presentation continues.

“Thank you for being patient and listening to me,” Takeda says after a long-winding speech about staying strong as a school and becoming the best witches in the world. (And perhaps, if he had been here last year, the words might have had some sort of impact on him, but now they fall flat like dust against Tooru’s feet, all meaning and inspiration lost).

They’re let out then, and Tooru finds himself quickly scrambling out in order to avoid the mass of eager students right behind him. He immediately spots Iwaizumi leaning against a nearby cherry blossom tree, talking to another familiar figure.

“Hey Iwa-chan, you’re actually here!” he greets, feigning surprise. 

At that, Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow. “And when have I _not_ been there when I said I would be?”

Tooru pretends to think for a while, a finger on his chin. “Well… there _was_ that one time in middle school-”

“Yeah, _one time,_ ” Iwaizumi stresses, the familiar argument like second nature. “Every other time I’ve been there-”

“Right,” Tooru cuts off, sticking out his tongue. “That’s what you say every time. We should probably get moving before your excuses get even weaker!”

Iwaizumi merely sighs before beginning to walk, already knowing that an argument at this point would be meaningless. It isn’t until they’ve walked a few blocks that Tooru realizes something - the way Iwaizumi leads is the opposite of Bokuto’s, with Iwaizumi showing him the way subtly, making sure he’s following and caught up, and with Bokuto simply running ahead, his loud actions a flashing sign pointing in the right direction.

He wonders if they know each other. Tooru feels like like they would have a strange but somehow well-working relationship.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get utterly lost,” Iwaizumi says in the middle of their walk. “Your sense of direction is terrible.”  

Tooru smiles sheepishly at that - he can’t even begin to count the number of times he’s accidentally gotten lost or veered off track because of his lack of attention, or just generally not knowing his surroundings well. “Oh, well, someone named Bokuto Koutarou helped me get around! Do you know him?”

“Bo?” Iwaizumi says, and just by the nickname Tooru can already tell what the answer is. “Yeah, I had a few classes with him last year. He’s actually my roommate.”

“No way, really? Bo-kun said he knows who _my_ roommate is! We should form some sort of club, Iwa-chan!”

“Oh yeah, who _is_ your roommate?” Iwaizumi says, eyebrows scrunched as he tries to think of Bokuto’s acquaintances. “You never told me.”

“Hmm? Someone by the name of Kuroo Tetsurou. Do you know him too?”

He stops walking when he sees a strange expression on Iwaizumi. “What,” he says after a missed beat, “is there something wrong with him?”

Iwaizumi merely shakes his head. “No, it’s just - a really, really strange coincidence.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The three of us used to be in a team last year,” Iwaizumi says nonchalantly. “Kinda weird how we all ended up being connected this year too, yanno?”

The wind blows, carrying a few leaves as Tooru processes the information. Iwaizumi picks one as it flies by and pockets it.

“Well then, we should all form a team again! With me this time, of course.”

Iwaizumi scowls at that. “Kuroo’s the captain, so you’ll have to speak to him about that. But I’m sure he’ll allow you to - he’s been looking for a new member for a while now. Before you say yes to anything though, let me know, alright?”

“Iwa-chan, you don’t have to act like my mom!”

_“What did you just say?”_

The rest of the trip to their dorm follows in a similar pattern, full of joking banter that a part of Tooru wishes were genuine.

 

* * *

 

Tooru manages to get some information on Kuroo from Iwaizumi before officially meeting him.

He’s training to be a mercenary witch, and specializes in defensive fire magic. He loves playing pranks with Bokuto, has a big appetite, and despite his laid-back attitude takes honor-level classes and keeps pretty good grades. Iwaizumi lists of these facts monotonously, as if he’s recited them hundreds of times before and doesn’t need to think twice about it, and Tooru merely tilts his head at the information.

“Defensive fire magic?” he asks when Iwaizumi finishes with a glare. “Is that even possible?”

“Oh, _trust me,_ it is,” Iwaizumi says with a snort. “I didn’t really believe it at first, but it strangely works. You’ll see soon. Now, stop falling behind - you’ll know more when you _actually_ meet him.”

“Alright, no need to push!” Tooru whines, beginning to lightly jog as Iwaizumi goes past him. When they arrive at the dorm building for second years, he’s once again taken aback - but it isn’t because of massive size of his future sleeping-place.

It’s because of the dorm’s design.

Not that it can really be _called_ a dorm - it looks more like a tower of sorts, with overflowing flora climbing up and various burn marks scratching the sides. He sees a lake off to the side, a few small boats creating ripples in the water as the almost-dilapidated structure leans concerningly to the right, casting shadows that Tooru can feel from meters away. It’s quite possibly the strangest thing he’s ever seen.

“What?” Iwaizumi says when Tooru pauses to take in the sight.

“Are you sure this is a dorm?” He says breathily, chin tilted upwards.

“Well, there used to be just a normal building a long time ago. But when you stuff about a hundred students with magic running wild into something like that, things are bound to happen,” Iwaizumi explains patiently, hands tucked into his jeans as we looks at the tower as well. “Are you done gaping or what?”

“I get it, i get it,” Tooru sighs, “I’m totally new to all this magic stuff. No need to shove it in my face.”

At that comment, Iwaizumi’s face falls a bit. “I wasn’t - I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry.”

Tooru smiles thinly, trying to put as much nonchalance into his voice as he can. He can recognize the guilt on Iwaizumi’s face by the way his eyes shift downwards - and _there it is,_ the pounding in his chest whenever he wants to reciprocate but _can’t._ “Don’t worry about it - I’m not offended,” he says, and he means it full heartedly. It’s not like he can get offended anyways.

But Iwaizumi still seems a bit uneasy as he sighs and motions him inside.

Tooru almost says something - unsaid words are on the tip of his tongue as he see’s Iwaizumi’s back, shirt covering the multitude of scars only _he_ knows of. He can see the muscles twisting, the gears turning in his head, and Tooru opens his mouth to reassure his best friend but-

-nothing quite comes out.

They part ways in the elevator - Iwaizumi’s room is only a floor below them - and Tooru finds himself tapping his fingers along the metal handles while his own reflection blinks at him during the short ride up.

 _Fire magic, A+ student, likes pranks, and laid back,_ he thinks to himself, trying to come up with a mental image for his roommate. Honestly, Tooru isn’t sure what to expect - someone tall? Someone short? Does he have lanky arms, does he snore in his sleep? There are a lot of questions that he surprisingly finds himself wanting to know

He wouldn’t call the uncomfortable sensation beneath his skin _nervousness,_ but it’s somewhat similar, in they way his palms become slightly sweaty.

Before he takes off, Tooru practices one last smile in the elevator.

 _“Alright, you got this,"_ He says to himself softly. _I’m just an average witch wannabe who discovered magic a year ago. Nothing more, nothing less._

With those final words in mind, Tooru goes forward, searching for room 101 with steady steps and an easy smile.

* * *

When Tooru knocks on the door, the first thing he hears is a large crash and the cry of an animal. The faint sound of cursing can be heard as well, with soft footsteps approaching.

_The door narrowly misses his face when opened, swung open with such force Tooru feels his hair float a bit as generated wind flows through._

“Who _-_ uh,” the stranger says, blinking dark eyes a few times. It’s the first thing he notices about him, the next being his hairstyle that seems like a mix between gel and extreme bed hair. His fingertips grasp at the ends of the door, blackened with ash that goes under fingertips, heat radiating at a comfortable temperature like a winter heater.

“Hello!” He greets, practiced smile in place. “I’m Oikawa Tooru. I believe i’m your new roommate...?”

“Oh,” he says slowly, as if he weren’t expecting Tooru so soon. “Right. Your stuff came by a while ago- here, I already settled on the right. Hope you don’t mind.” A breath - then, “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, by the way. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Tooru replies chirpily out of habit. Kuroo opens the door for him, outstretching his arms in a welcome. He sighs, trying to figure the other out. First impression so far? Average. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

Taking a look inside, the room is simple, with stone walls and similar flooring, fake-lantern lights illuminating each corner. The room itself is shaped like a backwards L from the entrance, small cot-like beds on each side of the ‘L.’ Sure enough, to his right the bed is already messy, with it’s own desk to the side full of picture frames and textbooks and a half-open closet. There’s a cat as well, who looks quite disgruntled, with fur the color of ash and bright eyes that seemingly glow.

Straight ahead is another empty table, and his moving boxes, light from a window facing the lakes piercing through the lack of material. Kuroo shifts from behind him, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “I was just settling in too. Do you need help with anything?”

“I think I’m good,” Tooru quickly replies, uneager to have to unpack. It’s not like he had much to begin with but still - the prospect of it is unappealing. He squints, scrutinizing Kuroo’s figure, and making a sound when he concludes that Kuroo is taller than him. His limbs are long, body lean, legs muscled in a way that shows Tooru that his roommate is definitely fit. “Is that a cat?”

“Yep! Miro’s been my familiar for as long as I can remember. As long as you don’t step on his tail, he’s pretty tame.”

“Right, familiars…” he’s never had one, but he’s heard of them before - pets or sometimes even magical creatures that are bonded to a witch, giving magic-users a source of extra power (and friendship). “I forgot they were a thing.”

“Right, right,” Kuroo muses, dragging out the _i._ “You’re new to all this magic stuff. Well, since you also skipped the first-year program, i’ll most likely be here to help whenever you need. If you want it, of course.”

Kuroo settles on his bed, body completely relaxed, and for someone who’s supposed to be a manipulator of fire, he seems… harmless. Tooru recalls the smell of burning skin, but just looking at the way the other moves is reassuring.

He narrows his eyes - that definitely isn’t a good thing. “Um… thanks,” Tooru ends up saying, not sure what else to say. “You’re... a lot nicer than I expected. From the way Iwa-chan described you, I thought you would be more of a slob.”

“Iwa-chan?” Kuroo asks instead, seemingly unhurt by Tooru’s poor word choice. He can practically _feel_ Iwaizumi’s oncoming lecture about not just blurting things out loud, a terrible habit since childhood he still hasn’t really gotten rid of. His eyes are calculative, a faint smirk on his face, as he rubs his chin in thought. “Are you talking about Iwaizumi Hajime?”

“Yep! My childhood best friend,” he says - this, these words, come out smoothly, no prior practice needed. He’s explained so many times by now that emotions or no emotions, he does a pretty good job convincing everyone they’re close. “He said you were a hassle to deal with.”

“Well, I’ll have you know i’m a _delight,”_ Kuroo says after a pause. “My kindness knows _no_ bounds.”

And Tooru isn’t sure what it is - maybe the way Kuroo says the words, the way his tone carries confidence, or the earlier image he had for his roommate. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from last night, or the sudden realization that _yes, this is real, yes, you are actually going to school despite everything that’s happened._

But whatever it is, it makes Tooru burst into giggles, chest pounding at the attempt to find humor, unable to stop himself from shaking.

“What’s so funny?” he says indignantly, and to Tooru it _shouldn’t be funny at all,_ but there he is, laughing anyways.

“Nothing, _nothing,”_ he gasps out, trying to control himself. It’s the first time something like this has happened, and despite the uncomfortable squeezing around his chest, he doesn’t quite _dislike_ it. Kuroo only blinks at him strangely, and Tooru has probably already made a strange first impression. “It’s just - even if I barely know you, I have a feeling that you’re totally _wrong._ ”

“I am _offended,”_ Kuroo whines, no real hurt in his voice. Tooru doesn’t think he’s had a conversation this smooth and natural with anyone other than Iwaizumi in a while. “What did Iwaizumi even say about me?”

“That you’re messy, like pranks, and have horrible hair,” he lists off monotonously. “Oh, that that you’d probably be bribing me into joining your team, and that I should talk to him first before agreeing to do anything with you.”

Tooru looks outside his window then, observing the still wandering students and a few first-years investigating the lake, pushing and laughing at each other. He wonders just how much he’s missed while everyone else in his year experienced the school as first years as well, wonders if what he’ll do will ever compensate for it.

“Well, well, well, your ‘Iwa-chan’ wasn’t wrong about about that last part,” Kuroo says sagely. “Although I think my hair is perfectly normal, but that’s besides the point.”

Now, Kuroo shifts, getting closer, holding out his hand, and looking Tooru directly in the eye. His eyes are glowing like embers, full of mirth and something else he can’t quite place on his lips. “Hey, Oikawa. (something about the way he says his name makes Tooru shiver) I know we just met, but I think you’ll be a _great_ addition to our team. We’ve been looking for a new member for a while, and you’re the perfect candidate.”

“What makes me your first choice?” he asks instead of taking the hand.

“Oh ho ho,” Kuroo laughs. “It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you’re _strong._ It’s not everyone who can survive a monster attack with no magic at the time, and something like shadow magic is pretty rare.”

Tooru swallows at that, bitter memories resurfacing - of course, a few weeks after the incident, his story had been all over the news. Except, that it wasn’t really _his story_ \- it was a lie fabricated by the speculations of the media and his own inaccurate retelling of the story. It wasn’t like he could go around telling the _truth_ or anything, but the pitiful looks and whispers he got after the article came out let a sour taste in his mouth.

He had hoped no one would mention it here, but it had been a silly wish.

“Also, you’re my roommate! And Bokuto is Iwaizumi’s roommate. That makes everything pretty convenient, right? What do you say?

When Tooru doesn’t say anything right away, Kuroo wriggles his eyebrows. “I’ll even make you vice-captain,” he says slyly.

The way Kuroo offers his hand is welcoming - and Tooru recalls the warmth of his fingers, the sparks around his arm that are the complete opposite of Ushijima’s. The rational part of him says he should probably talk to Iwaizumi before making a decision so quickly, for someone he just met, or maybe just think about it on his own. He has a _week_ before having to send in any application form, after all.

And making deals with witches is dangerous - he knows that from first hand experience. A handshake is all it takes for a contract to be made, with the proper intent and magic between both sides.

But for some, strange, reason, Tooru finds himself taking Kuroo’s hand.

“Alright,” he says confidently, even rashly. “I’ll join your team, Mr. _I’m so kind._ I hope you don’t make me regret this decision.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll make _sure_ you don’t.”

Kuroo’s words are genuine, full of heart - and for the first time in a while, Tooru thinks he’s feeling genuine too.

 

* * *

 

By next morning, Tooru still hasn’t told Iwaizumi about joining Kuroo’s team.

He was supposed to, as commanded by “Captain Kuroo,” a self-given title for his roommate.

“Teams are super competitive here,” Kuroo had explained late into the night, “and getting good results during missions is the top priority for most students. Once you hand in the team forms, it’s hard to change groups. You’re real lucky you’re in our little group, Oikawa… which is why I think _you_ should deliver the news to Bo and Iwaizumi!”

_“What? Why me?”_

“Because if you _don’t _,_ _ it’ll look like I forced you into an agreement.”

“For people who you’ve been with for the past year, both Bokuto and Iwa-chan seem to have little faith in you,” he scrutinizes. “Are you sure they made you captain, or did you bribe them too?”

“Despite having a personality those too don’t properly appreciate, I’m just _that_ great in battle and tactics. I don’t need bribery to earn captain title.” Kuroo says the last few words with such conviction and honestly, Tooru can’t really tell if he’s being serious or not.

And that’s the thing that Tooru has the most trouble with - in less than twenty-four hours, Kuroo has already become some sort of enigma, both joking yet serious in a way that just confuses someone who’s quite literally emotionless.

 _We’re opposites,_ he thinks. _I’m darkness, and he’s light. I don’t feel much, and he feels everything, from passion to confidence, all covered in a layer of calm._

He has yet to see the other use any kind of magic though, even when unpacking. Then again, he doubts using fire magic to move books and clothes around is as ideal as using tangible strips of shadows that hold much less hazard to paper or cloth.

With all the organizing and settling in, Kuroo’s words soon enough find themselves at the back of his mind, swept up by other things such as, _what classes do I have tomorrow again? Where do my clothes go? How am i going to survive the entire year if I’m already exhausted and sore from just one day?_

So that’s how Tooru finds himself struggling to brush his teeth in a half-awake state, Kuroo already up and about, yelling how they’re going to be _late_ for their first class of the year, texts from Iwaizumi the night before unanswered.

“Looks like both of us have History of Magic,” Kuroo whines while looking at Tooru’s schedule. “Hate that class. Anyways, team stuff doesn’t happen until next week, so in the afternoon we’re pretty much free. We should meet up for an official meeting.”

“Sure,” Tooru agrees mindlessly, finally moving on to wash his face. “When?”

“Two sound good to you?”

“Mhmm.”

“Great. If you end up meeting Iwazumi or Bo for your second class, tell them to go to _Fukurou Cafe._ If not, just ask anyone else. Now _hurry up,_ _do you want to make a bad impression?”_

Tooru looks down at his contacts - just judging from the urgency in Kuroo’s voice, and the way he taps his foot rapidly against the floor, he’ll have no time to put them on. A part of him is somewhat glad Kuroo is waiting for him, because he would surely be lost if he were on his own.

(And he can’t help but think - _is this normal? Are people truly this kind?_ He didn’t expect to get invited to join a team so soon, much less be treated so nicely by someone he only met for a few hours. Maybe, just _maybe_ Tooru has lost touch with basic, human interaction. It’s not like he went out much the few months after being released from the hospital after all, still trying to get used to not only his lack of a heart, but his damaged knee and rare nightmares that caused a burning pain in his chest. No, Tooru must have remembered his past self very poorly for something as simple and sweet as this to make him think so much.

Either that, or Kuroo is simply an outlier. Tooru isn’t sure which reality would be better).

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, fishing his glasses case from his suitcase instead. While finally putting on some jeans with a nice sweater, Tooru grabs his bag packed from the night before, heavy with textbooks and freshly-pressed paper, along with fine, unopened ink. “I’m ready, let’s _go!”_

There’s a brief silence as Kuroo stares at Tooru with a strange expression. “Uh- um…

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing..." 

Tooru squints, but doesn't bother to ask about the suddenly strange behavior. "Right. Are we gonna go?" 

“Yep,” Kuroo says under his breath before slamming the door open, Miro resting on his shoulders. He runs forward with such desperation that even Tooru can feel it. Once outside, the wind flows through his hair, messing up his hard work on getting rid of his bedhead this morning (an old habit since middle school that he never got rid of), but surprisingly…

… or maybe not so surprisingly, Tooru finds himself unable to care as he chases behind Kuroo, shadows elongating in the morning sun.

And _this,_ Tooru thinks, is the start of everything.


	3. Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tooru goes to his class, meets a few more people, and embarks on his first mission
> 
> of course, something goes wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! So sorry for the late update... lol. Um, but here is the next chapter! This one was definitely really hard to write for some reason? But in the end, it worked out, and its extra long now whoops? S o please enjoy ;;;

_Try to fix the pieces of my heart won’t you please,_

_If i were to take the chance to pray for happiness and love_

_I would have to reassure myself that_

_I can still find the compassion hidden inside of me_

[\- World Domination How-To (Eng. Ver)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=asokLBYE5gw)

 

Tooru isn't sure why he expected Tokyo Mahou to be like a normal university, but when it isn't he can't help but feel a bit lost. 

Their first class is easy enough - History of Magic is part of the basics after all, and with Kuroo to guide him through it, the early morning passes by in a blur of opening parchment packets and new ink bottles. But after that, it's time for all of the students to separate into different groups depending on what kind of magic they have, and being the only transfer student his schedule is one of a kind.

Meaning after Kuroo leaves him, Tooru is on his own. 

"It's not that there's no one with magic similar to yours," Kuroo patiently explains when Tooru asks why he's alone. "You just have a lot more classes than us since you're new, and so your schedule is divided differently. Don't worry though, the campus isn't hard to figure out - all core classes are in lecture hall A, general studies are in hall B, uncommon elementals are in hall E... you get the idea, right?"

"Right," Tooru says, even though he's pretty sure he doesn't  _"have the idea."_

 _"_ Great! See you at Fuku Cafe, then!" Kuroo says with a wave before disappearing. Even with the one-of-a-kind hair Kuroo has, he instantly disappears in the crowd of students, leaving Tooru alone. 

 _This isn't so hard,_ Tooru tells himself after a moment of standing awkwardly, opening up the campus map.  _Just... follow the directions!_ Looking around and picking the direction he hopes is right, he starts walking. 

He decides to take his time through the cobblestone paths, and as he gets further and further from the lecture hall he was first at, he realizes just how big the campus is. The buildings around him at first are all archaic-looking, with castle like towers supporting a simple, square shape base made out of brick. Greenery grows in between the cracks, reminding him just how old the entire school is. Tooru spots students lounging around on the grass or having practice battles, and it's like they're in a separate world. 

There are dilapidated and crooked sculptures too, remnants of old buildings that have finally crumbled away and are only kept as monuments and resting places. 

At one point the castle-themed buildings start to become more modern, with clearly remodeled and restored halls made out of marble, cobblestone smoothing out into a concrete road. A sign marked  _New Campus_ hangs just after the last building made out of old brick - a checkpoint to Tooru, and now he's sure he's on the right track..

After more mindless walking, he finally finds what  he's looking for, a building with the letter _'E'_ on top. It's one of the remodeled ones, and despite its more-than-strange design, with old brick almost hastily covered by marble chunks, Tooru has to admit the building has a charm in its own strange way. The air smells musty as he enters, hallways illuminated by torches hung up on the walls, most classrooms already full of students.  
  
The class Tooru has to take - monster basics, or something like that - is located a few hallways in, and Tooru is thankful for the hung-up plaques that lead him. Checking the time, he made it exactly a minute before the official start of class. He opens the heavy door to be met with flickering fluorescent lights and small, wooden desks marked with old, dried ink. 

There are a lot less students than he expected. In fact, there's only three.   
  
Furthest from the door is someone with light pink hair and lidded eyes. Dozens of bracelets are lined up at his wrist, shining just as brightly as his earrings when he moves to wave hello. His shoulders are slumped, but his expression is bright. 

Next to him is someone who looks a lot less intimidating, with soft silver hair and a mark under one eye. There are hints of a tattoo under his sweater sleeves, black ink extending onto his palms, swirling in a intricate pattern he can't quite see. 

Closest to him is someone who looks much younger than a second year college student, with starting blue eyes, paper and ink already neatly arranged on his desk for the class. 

And of course there's his professor - at least, he thinks its his professor, why else would a middle-aged man be in the room? - who stands tall with a stern expression. 

"Welcome," he says, not unkindly. "Oikawa Tooru, right? Take a seat - now that everybody's here, lets begin." 

 _This is everybody?_ He thinks while taking a seat. Well, not that he's going to complain - the less people, the less he has to interact, right?   
  
The teacher introduces himself as Irihata, an "old witch who retired long ago." He doesn't share any more information about himself after that, pacing around the room.  
  
"For this semester, we'll be focusing on identifying and dealing with common monsters. Every other week we'll be going out to get some first hand experience. There's only four of you, so I'm expecting excellent teamwork. You all have uncommon magic - it might be a little difficult trying to work together, but there's always going to be someone you just don't click with no matter what kind of witch you become. Is that clear?" Irihata says.

"Yes teacher," they all echo back. 

They go over redcaps after that, and in the midst of taking notes he almost forgets about who he's sitting next to. 

Almost. 

It's difficult to ignore someone when they're staring at you, especially if their eyes are so vibrant and  _young,_ but Tooru manages to get by without paying too much attention to his classmate. But when Irihata wraps up with a stern note to go over their notes before leaving, it suddenly becomes impossible. He's about to ask what's the matter when the other speaks up first. 

"Oikawa Tooru?" he says as if it's a question.   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"I'm Kageyama Tobio," he introduces, bowing as if he's some sort of high official (which, he usually wouldn't mind, but something about this kid's voice is putting Tooru on edge). "It's an honor to meet you." 

"Honor...?" Tooru tilts his head in confusion. The other two classmates - who give him an apologetic look, whatever that means - before exiting, leaving Tooru and Kageyama the only two people in the room. 

"Yes. You not only survived a rogue monster attack without any magic, but also managed to save your friend. It was all over the news - I think that's quite admirable." He sounds like an excited child, although his expression still seems rather straight faced. 

Tooru crinkles his nose at that. He really wishes people would stop mentioning it. "Um, thanks I guess." What is he even supposed to say in these kinds of situations? 

"It's no problem, Oikawa-senpai."   
  
"Senpai? Aren't we the same age?" A sudden feeling of muted dread begins to form at the back of his throat - maybe there's a reason why he looks so young. But that's impossible, there would be no way that a- 

"Ah, I'm a shadow student. You're two years older than me, Oikawa-senpai." 

 _Two years._ There's a shadow student who's taking a class meant for second years. Shadow students are even rarer than transfers - they're the geniuses that get accepted into Tokyo Mahou before their third year of high school. Technically, nobody is allowed to attend a magical university if they're underage, but Tokyo Mahou still accepts recruits for one semester for the experience and exposure. The fact that Kageyama is one is surprising - but to see that he's taking a class  _two years_ above his level is amazing. 

And looking at his bright, reverant expression, he can't help but feel a hint of disgust roll around his stomach. 

It feels as if he's being made fun of. 

"Right," Tooru suddenly sneers. "Is that all you have to say?"

Kageyama shifts on his two feet, looking at the ground. "I'm just happy to be able to work with you. I wanted to let you know." He's mumbling to the ground, and Tooru simply shrugs. 

"Alright then, see you next class!" he says, voice dripping with false cheer - whether Kageyama catches or not, he doesn't see. Tooru walks out, handbag slung around his shoulders, and It's when he's halfway down the hallway he realizes he should be going to Fuku Cafe at this time. Wherever that is, it's not on his campus map.   
  
He considers asking Kageyama if he knows where it is - he's the only other person around, after all - but remembering his expression and tone of voice, Tooru walks ahead, determined to find it on his own.

Like  _hell_ he'd help Kageyama for help. He may have lost his ability to feel emotions, but he sure hasn't lost his standards.  

* * *

Perhaps Tooru is more stubborn than he'd like to admit - he arrives at Fuku Cafe ten minutes late, more out of breath than necessary. 

He spots the other three right away, but whether it's because of Iwaizumi's familiar presense, or Bokuto's loud voice, or Kuroo's wild hair, he isn't sure. Maybe it's all three. Either way, they notice him right away as well, sweaty and panting and  _maybe I should have thought this through._

"Oi, shittykawa!" Iwaizumi calls from the table, with a wave. "You're  _late."_

He approaches with caution, taking note of the already discarded wrappers and half-filled mugs. They're sitting right next a window, which has feather-themed decor plastered onto the glass. The entire place is quite cozy, in Tooru's opinion, with cute owl cushions on the chairs and nest-like napkin holders at the center of each table. Jazz music plays in the background, his sneakers making no sound against the dark wooden flooring. 

There's no time to get a coffee now, but he takes a mental note to come here another day. It seems - quiet, peaceful. Something he rarely feels himself. 

"Sorry," he says apologetically as soon as he gets to the other three, "Had a bit of trouble finding this place!"

"Why didn't you ask for directions, dumbass?"  
  
Tooru is smart enough not to mention his petty stubbornness, and just makes a face. "I did, but it still took a while. You see, just when I was exiting class there was this girl-"

"Yeah, yeah," Iwaizumi quickly cuts off, while Bokuto lets out a snort. Tooru inwardly pats himself on the back - in high school, Iwaizumi would always stop questioning him if he mentioned a girl, and he's surprised that tactic still works. 

"Good to see you're at least here, though," Kuroo says, and Tooru takes a seat. They're arranged so that he's next to iwaizumi and facing Kuroo, leaving Bokuto sitting diagonally from him. Looking at the crumbs of already-eaten snacks, Tooru spots some milk bread, still nicely wrapped in plastic foil - most likely saved for him by Iwaizumi. He takes it gratefully, giving Kuroo a nod to show he's listening intently now. "Now that we're all here, let's get straight to business."

"Uh-" Bokuto interrupts, raising his hand as if in a classroom. "We should probably explain to Oikawa more about the team stuff. The orientation didn't really cover the competitive aspect, yanno?" 

"You don't have to raise your hand," Kuroo says exasperatedly, as if this is a common occurrence.

Tooru finds himself raising a hand as well, with a completely straight face. "Yeah, the orientation didn't say anything about competition. Only that we're graded as a team, and that we go out on missions a few times a month."

Kuroo makes a face, as if to say  _not-you-too,_ but doesn't comment on it. "Well, my young grasshopper, Team Battles are one of the biggest events here. Why do you think everyone works so hard on these missions? Not because we're graded-" Kuroo's face darkens as he slams a fist against the palm of his hand. "No, because we want to  _win._ And this year, we  _better_ beat Sawamura and take the championship home." 

 _Team battle? Championship?_ It all sounds like a lot of work, and effort, and the old Tooru would have been all over the idea of a competition, but now he wonders if it's really worth the effort. 

"Sawamura?" he says, instead of  _I don't really have it in me to care for this but I probably should have expected it in such a prestigious school._

"An old rival," Iwaizumi explains, swirling around the remaining coffee in his cup. Tooru's fingers twitch at the urge to steal it take a sip from it. "They got first place last year. Think of it as like - the Valevictorian in high school, but a team rather than a person."

"We were  _soooo_ close to winning last year, but during their last mission they managed to find a  _bake Kurejia_ and  _exorcise it!"_ Bokuto whines. 

Kuroo sneers. "They only managed to pull themselves over because of  _luck._ But well, we have someone  _else_ on our team now -" at that, Iwaizumi slaps his back, "- and we'll make sure  _we're_ the ones finding random monsters for extra points. I know you can help us, Oikawa. Not everyone gets to survive a monster attack without magic and live to tell the tale." 

Tooru pales a bit at that - this is a lot of pressure on him, all of a sudden. He feels a bit guilty, not because he could care less for whatever rivalry they have, but because the fact that they're putting  _trust_ in him makes him uncomfortable. Not to mention the way Kuroo phrased the incident -  _a monster attack -_ makes that night seem a lot more heroic than he remembers it being.

Not that he doubts Ushijima is a monster - no, the way his skin glowed and eyes burned was a clear indication of lost humanity - but he didn't really make it out  _alive._

Yes, Iwaizumi made it out fine - but Tooru isn't sure giving away an organ for his friend really counts as victory. 

 So he sits, fidgeting and realizing that he may have bitten off more than he can chew. It's not like he could have  _avoided_ this per-say, since its required he join a team of  _some_ sort, but the expectant stares he's getting is a bit too much.

 (He's never handled expectation well anyways. Tooru remembers staying up until the morning studying because  _his mother expected the best for him and he should be able to fly through the test but he couldn't remember that one formula and -)_

 He recalls Ushijima's words and thinks,  _maybe I shouldn't have -_

Thankfully, his train of thoughts is interrputed by Kuroo's concerned, "Hey, you okay? You've been staring into space for a while."

 "I'm good, I'm good," Tooru says out of instinct, realizing a bit too late that he's been uncharacteristically quiet. "So um, how does the ranking system work, exactly?"

Thankfully, the other three don't question the conversation change. "Well you see," Bokuto starts, and Tooru  _swears_ with how he moves his arms he look's like a wild bird - especially with an owl cushion on his lap. "Each mission we get is worth a certain amount of points. How well we do complete them determines how many points we get. Like, the first mission is  _always_ worth fifty points. But how we can get those fifty points depends on what kind of mission it is, and what we do."

"There are cleanup missions, rescue missions, investigation missions," Kuroo continues. "You get the idea. Completing the main task will give us half the points - the other half comes from things like how long it took us, how well we work together. And well, you can even get  _bonus_ points if you go above and beyond."

"Like... finding the mystical creature that caused the problem." Iwaizumi says, and Tooru doesn't miss the bitter tone in his voice. "That's why Sawamura beat us last minute last year." 

In the midst of a bustling cafe, it's a bit hard trying to process and react accordingly to what everyone is saying. Should he act determined? Passionate? Ready to go all out to beat this "Sawamura"?

(In reality, he can feel it - a small, minuscule beat of his chest that says,  _I'm scared I won't live up to what everyone expects from me,_ but Tooru buries it deep down, because he's not supposed to be feeling anything, right? He can't let himself get weak, because he's supposed to be  _stronger_ now, with  _magic.)_

Tooru looks at everyone's faces, then. Bokuto's expression is bright, but the way he bounces and fidgets shows that he's  _ready_ \- ready to go all out, ready to get onto the field and do  _something._ And well, he's always been able to read Iwaizumi, and it's easy to spot the wrinkles in his forehead that usually means he's thinking, or focusing, or  _both,_ and or a second he sees something growing at the palm of his hand before it's hidden. And  _Kuroo_ \- there's a fiery passion in his eyes, and his ash-stained fingertips is a physical reminder of just how seriously he takes this, of  _working_ and school. 

Really, it's at that moment Tooru realizes - sure, they're all competitive to a fault, but the real reason why they're all so pumped and  _ready_ is because, to simply say, they want to be witches. 

And this is what witches do, right? No matter what _kind_ of witch, all witches go out to the field to deal with mystical creatures. 

_This is exactly what you signed up for._

Usijima's words echo in his mind - and something in Tooru miraculously hardens. 

He looks everyone in the eye - and for once, he doesn't think about what kind of expression he should show, because he knows exactly what he's supposed to be feeling. his heart may not beat, but hearing everyone else's passion, he thinks he can understand, at least a little. 

"Sounds easy enough," he says breezily. "Of course, we'll be aiming to get the most points we can get this first mission, right?"

Kuroo smiles at that. "Of course," he reaffirms, "We're going all out from the start this time."

"Then count me _in._ "

* * *

 

A week of getting used to classes, ignoring Kageyama who has just become a nuisance at this point, and getting comfortable around people in general passes in a blur, and soon enough it's time for them to receive their first mission. 

According to Kuroo, they have the same teacher as least year for this class, and sure enough the way  _Nekomata-sensei_ (that's what he called himself when they entered the classroom, and Tooru can't help but wonder if that's his actual last name or he's an actual Nekomata) pats all of their backs, even Tooru's, it's evident that they're all close. 

They're in an almost-completely remodeled building this time, and it's evident by the linoleum flooring and rather-bright walls compared to the crumbling grey brick of his dorms and other classrooms. Kuroo handles a folder with a few papers that have the extra details of their missions (and honestly, he's getting some sort of secret-spy vibe from this whole ordeal) as Nekomata pulls up a small projector screen. There's no projector to go along with it, but an image still flickers on, showing a forested area almost completely demolished. 

Trees are toppled over, and seem strangely charred, covering old temples and even a few houses. There's debris everywhere too, and Tooru can't help but flinch at the sight of it - areas park-like areas always reminds him of that night. A lot of things do, to be honest, and he usually does his best to avoid it. 

Kuroo lets out a long whistle. "Oya? What's this?"

Nekomata lets out a long sigh. "Unknown monster attack. You four will be in charge of cleaning it up."

"Yay, cleanup!" Bokuto cheers.

"It's a bit dangerous, seeing that we have no idea what caused so much damage but I think you can handle it." He lets out a laugh, eyes flashing, but the message his clear -  _go find that monster and get those extra points._

Iwaizumi grins a bit. "Right. It's just a cleanup mission anyways, we can handle it." _We got this, Nekomata, so don't worry._  

"Good," Nekomata says decisively, "then you have a day to get your belongings. We drive to rural Tokyo the day after tomorrow, 4 A.M. - pack for no more than four days. Although I expect you four to be done in half that time!" He lets out a hearty laugh at that. Tooru finds himself trying to smile as well, although it comes out a bit awkward. 

Well, practice makes perfect. It's hard trying to fake emotions all the time.   
  
"The attacked area is fairly close to a rural village there. They'll provide you with a place to sleep until you're done, and a place to eat. The only request we have is that we try to preserve the shrines as much as we can while working." Nekomata pulls a face. "Looks like they were destroyed in the attack. Make sure to look into it, alright Bokuto?" 

"Yes sir!" Bokuto dutifully replies, and Tooru wonders why he was specifically addressed. 

"Then that's it! Best of luck to you four. Don't let anyone know, but-" Nekomata's voice drops into a whisper, "-im rooting for this team. Make sure you start of with a bang, got it?"

"Yes, Sensei!" they respond simultaneously. They're released then, and he ends up following Kuroo to go back to their dorms. 

"See you tomorrow night, then!" Bokuto calls before disappearing with Iwaizumi, to their own rooms. Now, the strangely structured building is a comfort - just the sight of the moon reflected int the lake, along with the stairs that twist and turn with random windows in the hallways, makes Tooru relax. It's much better than his old apartment, at least.

Their room has become a bit messy in the past few weeks. Kuroo's familiar is faithfully there as well, cat hair all over Kuroo's bedsheets. His own table is now cluttered with parchment and an open ink bottle, along with a few textbooks that are bookmarked and underlined. Kuroo's is no better, in terms of messiness, but there are a few potions and ash stains that make it clearly his. 

"You should rest," Kuroo says, dropping the folder onto his desk before scratching behind Miro's ear. "We don't have any classes tomorrow, so you'll have plenty of time to pack then."

Tooru merely nods. They have a sort of rhythm together now, and Tooru doesn't even ask anymore to shower first. Kuroo is a late sleeper, so he doesn't mind that Tooru takes his time in the bathroom. 

As water streams down his body, Tooru's fingers twitch with impulse. Even if he knows what's going to happen, he puts a hand to his chest and closes his eyes, trying to listen, trying to  _feel._

Of course, there's nothing there. The bathroom they have is small, and he can see himself in the mirror if he gets on his tip-toes. He looks, with his brown hair darkened with water, eyes shining yet somehow dull in the artificial light. There he is, perfectly alive and breathing, but there's something missing, he thinks. 

His skin is unnaturally pale, expression blank. He tries to smile but his lips turn up, and it looks stilted, _feels_ stilted. There are thin scars along his body, the memory of how he got them long gone. He doesn't need to see the mirror to know what his knee looks like, slightly discolored from the charred skin. 

But if he had to choose an injury he knows by heart, it would be the one on his chest, because this one he can  _feel,_ not in the sense that it hurts when he moves, like it is with his knee, but because he can feel the emptiness everything he talks. He can feel the vast chasm, where he struggles to hold on to the last, remaining pieces of a heart he still has left. 

Tooru feels it especially now, staring at his own dead expression as his scars lay out in the open for everyone to see. 

(But no one sees them, only he does).

 _Today was tiring,_ he simply thinks, before quickly finishing up and getting dressed into his night clothes. He's wasted enough water for the day.

And when Tooru climbs into bed, Kuroo is completely immersed in the files he was given early, almost nose deep as he scans the page with a highlighter ready. As captain of the team, he's required to read up on all the details of the situation and explain his plan on how to deal with the problem - in their case, how to deal with the cleanup - before they begin working. 

"Good night," His roommate calls out, flashing a quick smile before going back to work.

Staring at Kuroo's hunched back, Tooru sighs and tries to remember what it was like to work that hard. 

(It's impossible, the same way he can't feel anything more than a diluted sense of _something_ that sometimes he can't even recognize. The goodnight at the back of his throat disappears as he drifts off into a once again dreamless sleep). 

* * *

 

Mist clings to Tooru as he gets out of the car, breath disappearing in the morning air. 

After hours stuck in a cramped space, it feels good to stretch his legs, the smell of wet earth lingering as he reaches down to massage his knee. The air is different here, full of pine and other-wordly things, and for once he feels like he has a clear mind. His shadow flickers underneath him, charged with magic and muted anticipation.

He's rarely been to rural Tokyo, or anyplace rural in general, despite spending most of his childhood in a suburban area. He's glad for that, and the usually overbearing sense of  _something is going to happen_ he feels whenever he's in a park-like area or smelling fire isn't there at all. 

Tooru feels Iwaizumi's reassuring hand on his back as he gets back up, little flowers growing from the cracked concrete around him. They're white and small, like flakes of stray snow on the road. Bokuto climbs out of the car next, who is bright and away despite it being so early. He looks more bird-like than ever, with the way his hair sticks up, eyes glowing in the rising sun. 

And then it's Kuroo, fire lightly dancing around his fingertips as he cracks them, expression surprisingly light. He looks almost ethereal, in the way sparks dance around before sticking to his hair, lean body loose and confident as he steps toward the back of the vehicle to take out their belongings. 

The conversation as they begin walking to the village they're staying at is light, until they reach the damaged area. It feels different from seeing it in pictures - and looking at all the loose trees and destroyed areas, he can't help but wonder how they're going to clean  _all_ of this up  _and_ fight a monster.

As if reading his mind, Kuroo only chuckles. "Don't worry about this," he says, gesturing to the chaos. "Magic is more powerful than you think. You should be more concerned about finding that monster, eh?" 

It's supposed to be comforting, and he appreciates the effort, but just judging by the sheer amount of forest that was destroyed, whatever attacked the area is no joke. He should keep his guard up - Iwaizumi seems to be thinking the same thing, little green vines wrapping themselves around his fingers. 

Now that he thinks about it, he's never seen his friend in action, aside from the few times Iwaizumi grew herbs to help with small cuts and even with his knee from time to time. He's never seen  _anyone_ in action, not really, unless he counts the few news sightings of witch action. No, Tooru is going into this with little to no idea on how anything works.

 _How wonderful,_ Tooru thinks, playing with the tendrils cast on his hand.  _I wonder if I'm strong enough to..._

"Here we are," Kuroo interrupts, announcing their arrival. The town is small, with dirt paths and traditional-style houses. A middle-aged man with flowing robes greets them at the entrance, marked by an overhanging wooden signpost, leading them to a vacant room spacious enough for multiple people. 

With tatami flooring and rice paper walls, their living quarters feel light and airy. A few air mattresses are set up - not the most comfortable place to sleep, but it does the job, Tooru supposes. Other than that, the room is bare, back door leading out to what seems like a small garden and bathroom to the side. 

Apparently, sharing a room is something of a common occurrence, seeing that no one questions the arrangement. Food is brought to them - rice with soup and some side dishes - for breakfast, and it's during this time that Kuroo explains their strategy for today. 

"So, not to throw you under the bus, but since Oikawa is new we'll spend most of today explaining things to him. Especially since you don't really know how your magic works, we need to be careful that we don't cause any extra damage and move out everything we can in an effective manner. So, we'll split into two - i'll be with Bokuto, Oikawa with Iwaizumi. Bokuto and I'll start from the wreckage closest from the area, you two start the furthest, and by tomorrow or the day after we'll meet in the middle.  _If_ you happen to see the monster, don't hesitate to attack. If you think you need backup, just contact us. Make sure you keep your phone on at all times, alright?" Kuroo says this all with an authoritative,confidence voice, and Tooru wonders if this is why he's the captain.   
  
"Come on," Iwaizumi gesters, holding out his hand while standing up. "Let's get started then. No time to waste."

The four split up where Kuroo and Bokuto are supposed to start, and then the walk with Iwaizumi falls into a comfortable silence. He recalls the first day of school, something that feels like  _ages_ ago, and when the two of them had walked awkwardly together. 

(He's glad its not as stilted right now, glad he's been getting better at just being around other people. Spending an entire year locked up in your room with a burdened knee, overprotective family and a broken heart really skews your social skills, Tooru thinks.) 

"We're both elementals," Iwaizumi starts sometime, when the trees start to thin with black marks scratched onto bark. "Which means our magic is still somewhat similar. What we do is control something around us - whether that be plants," Iwaizumi holds out his palm to show a blooming flower, thin yellow petals rapidly turning into white fluff before flying into the air, and Tooru doesn't miss the vines wrapping behind his arm, stemming from the ground. "Or darkness. Either way, we don't really  _create_ an element, we manipulate it. The more you know and connect with an element, the better our control over it."

"Right," Tooru says, nodding seriously. "Does that mean I need to know the physics of how light works? I really didn't like that class so I dont think I-  _Hey!"_ He rubs his shoulder in feigned pain when Iwaizumi punches him. "That hurt!"  
  
"Good," Iwaizumi says, and the tone he uses is familar, in a good way. "You deserved it. I didn't say you have to go all out on studying your magic, shittykawa. And don't give me that look - I know that's how you interpreted that. Most of magic is a feeling, anyways. We have the power within our bodies - the only thing we need to do is let it out. Now, how we let it out and how much we let out is what most witch training is for, do you understand?"

 _"Yes,_ sensei..."

"Are you sure? I'm not going to find you at 3 AM pouring over textbooks on how to use light and darkness more efficiently, or some bullshit, right?" They both think back to high school days, where Iwaizumi would wake up at five in the morning to see that Tooru's lights were  _still_ on from the night before, and was only persuaded to get some rest when told staying up would hurt his grade rather than help it. 

"...Yep. I promise I wont." There's concern in his voice, and Tooru is somewhat touched, but he's long past destroying himself for something so small as a grade or a new ability (or maybe he isn't, he isn't sure anymore). "Anyways, Tettsun can stop me anytime!"  
  
"Tettsun. Did you just call Kuroo  _Tettsun?"  
_

Tooru flashes a smile. "Thought of it just now. Don't you think it's fitting?" 

"I'm glad i'm not the only one with a shitty nickname now. Do you have one for Bokuto?"  
  
"Hmm," Tooru tilts his chin in thought, "I'm working on it." 

There's silence after that, and only a few minutes later they reach the end of the wreckage. Iwaizumi stops and places a hand on a nearby tree. It's fairly large, branches stained with some sort of black ink-like material and roots uplifted. Immediately, the roots begin to crumble and move, snapping back into place with a slow groan that shakes nearby birds out of their resting perches. 

Tooru watches as everything realigns itself, so naturally its like he's watching a reversed video of a tree falling. 

"This must be a breeze for you, Iwa-chan," Tooru sighs out, "since this is your terrain and all. He's about to comment on how  _he's_ supposed to do something like that when all of a sudden, the tree snaps again.

And now the video is being played again - but it's not reversed, and if not for his instincts instantly responding and throwing out a shield of shadows, both he and Iwaizumi would surely be crushed under the massive weight. The rough bark rolls away, barely caught by vines nearby wrapping themselves around and the grass under violently creating a massive bed to cushion the fall. 

There's silence as the sound echoes throughout the forest, dust flying up as the tree finally comes to a stop. Both of their breaths come out heavy, Iwaizumi's arms strained with the effort. For a moment, Tooru can't  _move,_ and his legs feel like they're glued to the forest floor, but then the shield breaks and sunlight pours over their faces again. Everything is still, then the vines slowly retract and they're left almost exactly where they started.

It's a while before they speak. "Was... that  _supposed_ to happen?" 

Iwaizumi's face is tight as he begins to walk over to the tangled branches. "Nope. Nothing should have negated my magic but  _this,"_ Iwaizumi points to the mysterious blank stains then, "might have interfered." 

He notices just how  _damaged_ the area around them looks - it's not just a black stain. It looks more like something  _burned into_ the skin of the tree, spreading all around like a disease of some sort. 

And its all around them, the darkness on what seems like every fallen tree. 

"So... what now?" The distant sound of twittering birds and animals are all gone now, most likely scared away. It's just the two of them, breathing steadily, one heartbeat starting to recline as the situation settles while the other feels more than he normally would. It goes unnoticed by the two of them, but Tooru's shadow is completely unsettled, thrown all over the place as if someone scrambled the dark pieces around. 

(Looking back, he supposes it's a response to his frayed nerves). 

"We don't touch whatever the hell that is," Iwaizumi starts gruffly. "And let someone investigate it. It's clear evidence left behind whoever did this mess, and it's interfering with my magic. We should cut off any part of the tree, move it to a separate pile, and then I'll restore the tree again."

"Be careful it doesn't fall on us a second time!" Tooru jokes, but it comes out flat. 

Nobody really laughs after a near-death experience, after all. 

It's almost mechanical then, and despite the rough start its comforting to hear his best friend's voice as he explains how to properly direct his magic so it sharpens like a knife, cutting into the tree like a surgeon extracting something from within. (for some reason, when iwaizumi tries to do the same with his knife, it doesn't work, but the two of them don't question it, just grateful there's  _someone_ who can dispose of the unknown material temporarily) There are a lot of other things to consider as well - he checks to see if there are any nests or trapped animals before Iwaizumi can snap the tree back into place again. He carefully picks up stray logs or branches that are in the way, separating them into piles that are tied together by Iwaizumi after. 

By the time the sun is setting, it becomes mindlessly tedious. Just when the horizon dips from pink to purple, hints of dark blue peeking in at the edges, moon already out, Iwaizumi wraps the last pile of extra wood and falls to the ground - a sign that they're done for the day. It's not until he takes a seat as well that he realizes his legs and arms are shaking from the work.

"You held out for longer than I thought," Iwaizumi says with a tired voice. "Magic is like stamina - for someone who hasn't really practiced using it like this, you're doing surprisingly well."

"Well, you know what they say! I'm naturally talented-"

A twig is thrown half-heartedly at him. It barely scratches his leg before disappearing into the dirt. 

"If your ego grows any more I  _swear."_

"You'll still love me, that's what." 

"Get up, shittykawa, we need to get back and let Kuroo know about the black stuff."

Judging by the amount of time it takes to walk back, they've gone through about half of their progress - they've met their quota for the day. Kuroo and Bokuto are already the village, although their dirtied clothes suggest it hasn't been long since their arrival. Bokuto lets out a tired welcome. 

"There was something-" Iwaizumi and Kuroo say at the same time, and they blink once before bursting into laughter. They fall into discussion about whatever they experienced, and Tooru just groans and rolls onto a nearby air mattress. He doesn't care that it's going to get dirty right now. 

Bokuto lets out symphatic snort. "Tough day, huh?"

"Mhm."

Food has never tasted so pleasing or so filling. When a villager comes by with a pot of steaming rice and roasted  _meat,_  Tooru can feel his mouth water. They talk about trivial things (Bokuto bets he can fling the pickled garlic into his mouth - Tooru disagrees and watches as the piece lands perfectly, Iwaizumi and Kuroo just nodding as if this is normal. He learns not to bet against Bokuto's scarily accurate aim, no matter what he's aiming) and heavier things (they're discussing all the magical monsters they know that can negate magic, but there isn't many and the few they name wouldn't be able to destroy  _that_ much forest). 

They get a call from Nekomata too, and Kuroo spends the rest of the night explaining the day's work. Tooru, Iwaizumi, and Bokuto end up playing a card game until the rest of the village falls to sleep, lights turning off a sign that they should be going to bed too. 

While they get ready for bed, Tooru hopes nobody minds as he stretches out his knee, still somewhat sore from today's activities. He sees Bokuto's questioning stare, Kuroo's watchful eyes, and especially Iwaizumi's piercing gaze that asks a silent question, but Tooru simply stares at the blank wall in front of him as he works on his knee for the next few minutes.   
  
His knee brace comes off with a silent pop, and Tooru settles into bed - all of a sudden, everyone else snaps into action too, shuffling their covers. There's no air conditioning, and it soon becomes apparent by they sticky feeling of the late-summer-early-fall air. His silk pajamas help circulate the wind a bit, brushing softly against his skin as sleep swiftly comes, mind exhausted enough that he has no dreams.

"Good night," someone says, but before he can figure out who it was he's fast asleep.   


* * *

Tooru wakes up to the smell of breakfast first - it seems its the same as yesterday, complete with rice and small side dishes. Then it's the sound, of muffled voices and clinking chopsticks and bowls. And finally, opening his eyes, he's met with the sight of the sun shining through the walls and Kuroo and Iwaizumi eating at the center table. Bokuto is still half-awake on his bed, hair an absolute mess as he stumbles to find some slippers.

"Mornin' lazy bones," Kuroo drawls from where he sits, waving his chopsticks in the air. "We're going to go out soon, so hurry up."

He blinks wearily before groaning, slowly getting up and beginning to stretch his leg. This time, the stares as he goes through his morning routine are less intense, and Tooru finds himself glad. Snapping his knee brace on, Tooru sighs. "Not  _my_ fault I'm not early birds like you heathens. You could've just woken me up earlier!"  
  
"You needed your rest," Iwaizumi says, cleaning off the last bits of rice from his bowl. "Now get your ass over here and eat. If we work at maximum efficiency we can finish everything by today."  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the  _vice captain._ Oh wait, you're not,  _I_ am," Tooru mocks. "I should get more respect. Honestly."

"Oh? And who made you vice captain?"  
  
Kuroo sheepishly scratches the back of his head. "Oh uh... that would be me."  
  
"Are you  _serious?"_

"Hey! He looked like he didn't want to join when I asked first. I had to bribe him somehow!"   
  
"And as vice captain-" Tooru cuts "-I'll be taking all the damn time I can for breakfast. Of course, if we work at maximum efficiency we can finish everything by today. In case you didn't know, Iwa-chan."  
  
Iwaizumi just moves to hit Tooru. Meanwhile, Bokuto finally gets up from his bed and shuffles over to the table.   
  
"Hey, eat before your food gets cold. For a bird like you, I'm surprised that you're not a morning person." Kuroo calls out.   
  
Bokuto just groans and drinks a cup of water from the table first. "Shuddap," he mumbles, after a long silence. "I'm tireeeeed." The 'e' sound is dragged out. 

Tooru doesn't think much of the comment about birds - Bokuto  _does_ look like an owl of sorts, after all. He's more surprised about the other being tired in the morning. He remembers yesterday, just how full of energy he was. But then again, he hadn't seen him sleep for the entire early-morning drive.   
  
"Let him be. Owls are nocturnal... at least he doesn't wake up at dawn and scream into the sky," Iwaizumi says, frowing at Kuroo. 

"Do you want me to?"

 _"Please,_ no."   
  
When Bokuto moves to grab a few side dishes, that's when he notices.

Tooru had strangely never seen his arms bare before - they were always covered by sleeves of the sort. But it's obvious why now, because with his hoodie arms pushed up, not only do they reveal  _muscles,_ but... feathers. Honest grey feathers tipped in black, lining up and tapering off a few inches past his elbows. A sudden thought enters his head - feeling a bit of disbelief, Tooru looks down at Bokuto's legs under the table. They're pulled upwards as well and sure enough, there are feathers there as well, even moreso. 

"You... have something on your arm," he says faintly. Bokuto looks over with rice in his mouth, eyes wide, before bursting into giggles.   
  
"You didn't know?" Bokuto comments. "Most people notice, like, right away! They say my hair gives me away." 

Tooru only stares. "Gives away that you're a... mix?"

Bokuto nods at that, and Tooru recognizes nervousness flashing through is expression. "Uh... there's nothing wrong with that, right?"

"Of course not!" honestly, he had never thought he would meet one in real life. Monsters and humans aren't rare, but something in between those two groups? It isn't very common, and he realizes he really knows next to nothing about them."Now that you mention it, it was kinda obvious..." 

(He thinks it's not the hair, but the eyes that give away that non-human vibe, the way they dilate and glow under the moonlight). 

Kuroo lets out a visible sigh. "Well, that was... a lot less dramatic than I thought it would be." 

(It's then that Tooru realizes, a bit too late, that his reaction was more subdued than normal, and a sane person would proabably be freaking out about something like this. But Tooru really doesn't fit into that category, so he just hopes nobody questions it too much. Although he _is_ reeling - its just very, very subtle.)

"I was kind worried you'd be judgemental, or whatever. We had another member last year, actually - but Bokuto made him uncomfortable, so he left." The tone in his tone is bitter.

"Kuroo, don't be so mean!" Bokuto interrupts. "It wasn't his fault... he had a bad experience with mixes before, I don't blame Daishou for freaking out at first..."

"Still, he's a shitty little snake," Kuroo comments, although his tone is much more subdued. "So, what if you're part spirit? Doesn't matter at all."

"...Thanks, bro."

Tooru follows the conversation with a bit of bewilderment. The whole time, Bokuto's strange bird-like resemblence wasn't just because of strange coincidence, it was literally because he was part bird. Or something like that.

He really needs to work on his observational skills. 

"Why were you worried?" Tooru says, pouting, redirecting the conversation. "I hope you all know I'm an amazing person. I would  _never_ judge anyone for something as small as-"

Iwaizumi interrupts. "Yeah, yeah, hurry up and get your ass to eat. You're going to need all the energy to practice more with magic." 

"As vice-captain, I'm very offended at all of you right now." But Tooru moves, and sits with the rest of them at the table. 

It's nice, he thinks, waking up like this. 

* * *

This time he's paired with Bokuto. He's the only specialist they have here (meaning his magic isn't as common as others, like Tooru's) so he's expected to learn from him.

There are too many unsaid words and questions on his mind, but most of them stay at the back of his throat as they go to where Tooru left of yesterday. They don't have Iwaizumi to help the tree's stick together, which makes him wonder how Kuroo and Bokuto did anything yesterday, which  _also_ leads him back to wondering what kind of magic Bokuto has. 

"You're probably curious about me now, right?" Bokuto interrupts, momentarily stopping in their path. 

"Ahh- was I that obvious?"

"Nah, it's just that  _everyone_ is curious after they learn that I..." Bokuto looks away and clears his throat, "I mean, you just had that look on face."

"What?"

"I was worried you wouldn't... like me, after seeing my feathers. I mean, mixes are rare, right? Especially one that wants to be a witch, because we're supposed to be  _fighting_ spirits and monsters, like thats our dream job, but I'm  _half_ spirit or monster and it's just weird and If you're just acting for the sake of being nice I don't really like that? So just-"

"Hey," Tooru interrupts. He's never seen Bokuto get so fidgety. "It's okay."   
  
"Just - you had to know sooner or later, right? We're on the same team so-"

Tooru realizes that Bokuto's nervous because techinically, he's just like that 'Daishou' person Kuroo mentioned. He's faced a monster before, one that almost killed him and Iwaizumi, one that surely left physical and emotional scars. 

But Bokuto is nothing like Ushijima, for sure. So he doesn't feel anything, really. 

"I said,  _it's okay._ I don't... I don't have something against spirits and monsters because of the attack, or whatever. I'm becoming a witch so I can protect people, not to get revenge. So uh- you don't have to worry! I really, don't have anything against you." 

_I can't have anything against you - and if I did, that would be hypocritical._

_Since, really, I'm not fully human either_

Tooru shoves these thoughts away in favor of giving Bokuto his best, authentic smile. Or, as authentic as he can be. 

Bokuto brightens up at that - and like a switch being turned on, he bounds forward and gives Tooru a quick hug before bounding off. His sleeves are open now, and under the early sunlight it looks like his grey plumage shimmers. "Then good! Let's keep going!"

He doesn't really have the energy to move as fast as the other is, but Tooru runs along nonetheless, not noticing a golden trail left behind by Bokuto's feathers in the wind. 

Soon, they arrive where they need to be and begin working. Tooru removes the black-stained wood the same way he did yesterday, his movements much more refined than the first time he started (although its still a bit sloppy). He gives Bokuto a look, as if to say  _what now,_ but he only winks and then closes his eyes as if trying to concentrate. 

At first, he doesn't see it - golden firefly like wisps of light gathering at the tip of Bokuto's fingers. But soon, it's like a storm of light, and almost effortlessly, Bokuto raises his hand with clumps clinging to his wrist. He extends his index finger, and for a moment everything is silent as Bokuto almost stops breathing. Then, as he suddenly opens his eyes all the light gathers at the tip of his extended index finger. His eyes are the same color of the energy around him, constantly shifting between dark and light yellow. 

 _"Fuku,"_ he whispers, and the light moves to create a character in kanji that Tooru recognizes as  _restoration._ Sure enough, the little wisps all stream out into the area around them, quickly lifting up huge trunks of wood and melding it back together to the trunks, as if the trees had never been splintered. 

In seconds, everything is back to normal. 

"Being part tengu affects my magic," Bokuto says after the light has died down a bit. "It's all traditional stuff like that! I only know how to use a few characters, but, pretty cool, right?"

 _Tengu._ So that's what Bokuto is. He makes a mental note to research them later.

"Thats- amazing," Tooru says with a breath.  He wonders if _his_  magic could ever become like that, strong enough to fix everything around them with a single breath. Even the old, worn path that had led them here is now overgrown with fresh grass and other greenery that makes everything feel alive. A few wisps are still around, lighting up Bokuto's eyes. 

He's strong - and for once, Tooru isn't afraid the way he was months ago, the wound in his chest still fresh, jumping and panicking every time he saw someone as strong as Ushijima. It's... not exactly comforting, but not anxiety inducing either, which is as close to content Tooru can get to at his state. (There's a flashback, and Tooru swears he can smell the same, metallic smell of burning flesh from that night, but he shakes it away.)

"Let's keep going. We have to finish this by today! And then, we have lots of time to go monster hunting-" at that, Bokuto wriggles his eyebrows. Tooru merely sighs -  something flitters in his chest. Its unease, something ugly and dark trying to crawl its way out, whispering things that make him afraid and uncomfortable.

And for once, Tooru decides to ignore it. Overall, he feels neutral at the moment - and he wants to cherish it.   
  
It isn't until almost an hour later that he regrets letting his guard down.  


* * *

It comes suddenly, without warning. 

For one second, Tooru and Bokuto are fixing the last shrine, which had been covered in mold and fallen branches, aged stone cracked from the impact of the damage. They're both sweating, from the physical activity and magic, but even so Tooru doesn't miss the way Bokuto keeps looking with keen eyes for any kind of evidence that could lead them to the culprit. So far, the only thing they have is the strange, black ink that he's been carefully removing and separating. 

For one second, the forest seems peaceful, and if Tooru squints hard enough he can see the shadows of Iwaizumi and Kuroo working as well - they're almost done, and Tooru takes the time to look at the amount of work they've accomplished. 

For one second, Tooru is relaxed, and suddenly there's a big, black mass that smells of rotting flesh, charging right at him.

And, with a painful twist in his chest, Tooru  _screams._

Somewhere in the midst of freezing, and then being pushed out of the way by Bokuto, he recognizes the monster - or whatever it is, really, because it definitely isn't  _human_ \- is made up of the same material as the magic-nullifying ink on the trees. Or rather, a part of it is, an amalgamation of human-like bodies and heads fused together, a few arms and legs flailing and destroying the hard work of Bokuto, melting trees with a dark substance that Tooru realizes as  _blood._

But its not the horrid sight in front of him that makes him feel like he's suddenly dying - its the  _smell,_ the smell of burnt skin that he only recognizes thanks to Ushijima vaporizing part of his knee. 

His vision is foggy, distorting colors and panic that really shouldn't be there and it just _hurts, hurts, hurts,_ until Bokuto pushes him again with a hoarse  _"MOVE!"_

Kuroo and Iwaizumi are running toward them, fire already lighting Kuroo's hands and the few upright trees around them shaking, and Tooru tries to shake away the lingering heartbeats. He's in a  a life-and-death situation, and something as stupid as old memories and  _feelings_ can't bring him down. So he does his best to swallow everything and looks at the monster straight on. 

The thing just keeps charging forward, stopping, and then charging again. Bokuto's lights are frantically trying to do something,  _anything,_ but it isn't until Bokuto draws the character for fire and launches it forward that the monster reacts, screaming out in pain. 

And at that exact moment, Tooru's head bursts too, with a terrible migrane and voices that aren't his own, or anyone he knows, really. 

 _Help... us,_ it whispers, pounding at his head.  _Hurts..._

The heads on the creature open their mouths with a silent voice, and Tooru knows that these voices are theirs. How, he has no idea, but he can feel it in the way he can feel adrenaline running through his veins. 

_He did it... he did it to you too..._

"Did what," he mumbles, despite the fact that he might look crazy. He can't think straight with his awful headache. Iwaizumi and Kuroo have made it to them now, and Kuroo is already raising a wall of fire and blasting it away.   
  
For a second, Tooru's breath stills, because fire in a forest is  _never_ a good idea. But despite the suddenness of the situation ,Tooru realizes that the fire, with its hungry flames and tendency to destroy, is actually perfectly controlled, moving forward at a scary speed but also almost perfectly shrinking and reforming to never touch its surroundings. 

It's... fascinating, he thinks, watching Kuroo's darkened fingers light up with orange flickers. The way his dark eyes are revealed to actually be a golden-brown in the light makes Tooru wonder what it would be like if he could just-

-the fire hits the monster, sending another wave of pain through Tooru. 

 _You're cursed... he took it from you, just like us..._ the voices get desperate, pleading, almost. His vision warps as it opens its mouth again. 

_He took your heart._

The words ring, bounce around as he tries to absorb them -  _Ushijima... Ushijima did this?_ And with a sickening realization he recalls what Ushijima said when Tooru asked what would happen to him, right after his heart was taken.

_"Well… even I do not know what this means for you. You’re the first person to survive the process.”_

But then - then, shouldn't this...  _thing_ be dead? If it really is a byproduct of Ushijima's  _experiment_ or whatever, why can Tooru feel their pain? Why can he hear their voices, their anger, their anguish? 

"-Tooru," a voice calls, "-Tooru.  _Tooru!"_

Right, no time for questions - he can think about this later, when he's alone and maybe even demanding Ushijima for answers, not in the middle of a battle. Without even realizing, Tooru had fallen to the ground at one point, knee giving out. Iwaizumi has his hand outstretched, expression concerned, but Tooru grabs it without hesitation to show he's okay now. Or, rather, as okay as he'll ever be right now. His insides feel rattled and rearranged, unfamiliar even to himself. 

"You okay?" 

Tooru merely nods, flexing his hands and wringing out the shadows underneath him. 

Bokuto, looking exhausted, comes up to them. The entire area around them is ruined again, although thanks to Kuroo's efforts the monster now seem contained to a ring of his magic. "Looks like fire is the only thing that affects it. Everything else is just absorbed! But uh- Oikawa, I think you should try something."

"What? Why me?"

"Because, you're the only one that can touch that stuff besides Kuroo," Iwaizumi says. "We need all the help we can get - Kuroo has it trapped, so all we need is a finishing blow." They both look at him withs something in their eyes - it looks demanding.   
  
Pressure - there's pressure on him again, making his knees wobble and back hunch. A look of expectancy that he isn't sure he can handle, and  _damn it_ when did he become so weak? The old Tooru would probably be already helping Kuroo, the old Tooru wouldn't quiver in fear whenever he smelled burning things, the old Tooru wouldn't crumble under responsibility.

Or maybe he would - maybe he would crash and burn, but he would do it silently, going forward with his head held high when everything felt as if it would fall apart. 

He doesn't know anymore. He can't recall what Old Tooru would do, what Old Tooru  _felt,_ and he can feel himself slowly splitting as he tries to find who he  _is_ anymore.

"Alright," he says, with a radiant smile, thoughts suddenly evening out. His feet are quick, despite his knee, and he makes it to Kuroo's side in no time. 

He doesn't say anything else, only nods to the other, before taking a deep breath. The light from the fires cast deep, dark shadows that Tooru curls around his fingers. Flickering, it solidifies in his hands into sharp needles and points. There's a fuzziness in his brain - the voices are gone, drowned out by something in him that repeats like a mantra  _just finish it, just finish it, just finish it._

_Just end their suffering._

He feels hyper focused. There's something in him that he recognizes - its not exactly the same, but its awfully similar to that burning desire that kept him going during the last match of a volleyball game, or while training his combat. It buries the stray thoughts to be dug up a later time.

The shadows are twisting, forming into a giant sword now, held high over the flames with a hand made out of darkness.  _Aim for the heart!_ He thinks he hears Bokuto say, and at that Tooru lets out a snort.

_You don't have a heart, do you? Just like me._

_"How pathetic,"_ he whispers, before releasing his magic. The blade extends and pierces through the monster, and the dark ink splatters all over the ground - but the sword stays embedded as it shrieks and writhes around. And it's a bit excessive, but for some reason he finds even more shadows to turn into needles, jabbing them into the creature until it begins to dissipate.

It deflates breath, and a silent  _thank you._

That's when Bokuto screams, excitedly talking about how  _badass_ they looked and now they can get their extra points.

Suddenly, just when peace is resettling, the monster lunges forward - anger, there's _anger_ radiating from it, and Tooru doesn't have enough time to form another shadow to attack it again. He falls backwards, and its hands are lunging, clawing towards  _him,_ chanting  _why are you different? Why are you not like us?_

 _I don't know,_ he wants to say, but the words are stuck. And just when he thinks that he's going to die, because of his carelessness and ' _really, was that earlier attack not enough?'_ flames fly past him, close enough to singe his hair, instantaneously burning up the last remains of the monster. It screams with a final grab, dirtied index finger simply _centimeters_ away from touching him disintegrating. The fire clears to reveal Kuroo, eyes wide and chest heaving, arms outstretched. 

Despite the lingering flames disappearing, he can't help but marvel at his own, heated cheeks. That was- that was  _dangerously_ close. And with the setting sun behind him, he can't help but notice that Kuroo looks like an angel. An angel of fire and wings made out of the clouds int he sky. 

Tooru closes his eyes, feeling a bit overwhelmed, before opening them again. It's quiet now, quiet as they all try to catch their breaths.

With the ash formed near his shoes flying away in the wind, slowly, Kuroo extends his hand. 

His hands are warm - warm like light, like comfort, like a flicker of something Tooru can now only dream of. His knees don't hurt as he stands, in fact, for some reason, he feels energized.  _Kuroo_ makes him feel energized, and it feels like something in him is growing - not quite ready to bloom, but definitely a promise of something bigger, and after all the struggle to get out from under the dirt it feels refreshing to breath in the air. 

"Is it over?" Bokuto croaks, looking around them with a wild expression. His feathers are ruffled badly, almost comically. 

Iwaizumi sighs, and scratches his head. There are burn marks everywhere, although thankfully the stains of the monster have gone away. They're all tired and exhausted, weary from a long day's work. "Yeah... I think so." 

"Break time?" Kuroo offers tiredly.

"Break time," they all unanimously agree. 

Tooru's heart beats - only once, and weakly, but this time he  _knows_ it's there, he doesn't doubt it. And he holds on to that - the flash of emotion, and its not just  _any_ emotion, its a feeling that he has held deep in his heart for a long, long time. He knows it well enough to recognize it in that small moment.

And Tooru takes his chance. He holds onto his pride with fingers wrapped so tight it hurts, but for once he doesn't mind the pain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I got too sentimental writing this, oops...
> 
> Just so you guys know, I'm participating in the hqbb this year~! Sorry for the overlapping projects, once again the next few chapters are most likely going to be slow... but at least you'll also be getting an akaoi fic from me once the event ends? Hint: there will be magic, as always. Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I hope everyone reading this enjoyed! This is un-betaed, and while I did my best during editing/revision there still might be some spots with typo or stranger grammar. If this is the case, then just let me know so I can fix it.
> 
> The lovely art here was done by [fireflymachine](http://fireflymachine.tumblr.com/) please check out their art its so great and lovely?
> 
> Of course, if you want to yell at me (or with me) about anything, my tumblr is [allu-ria](allu-ria.tumblr.com)


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